The Trampled Rose
by Hatter and Hare Productions
Summary: Briar Rose is lost, broken, and confused. Could the witch doctor she inspired save her in return? Briar Rose/Aurora x Doctor Facilier. A continuation of "Shadow of the Rose". Honest criticism desired.
1. Genesis

The Trampled Rose

The taxi ride was short. The fare was inexpensive. The pain, however, was _wrenching._ It was as if Hell itself had chosen to set its hounds upon her heart. She, **she** who in the high courts of the Disney Kingdom famous for her self control, had almost broken down and _cried _in the back of the automobile. How… pathetic. She was surprised, and grateful, that the taxi driver did not notice.

Maleficent would just of died laughing at that sight. High and mighty Princess Aurora, Queen of the Rose Realm and Lady of the Morning Star, bawling like a newborn babe. Oh, would not that make her existence! Not that the two held any animosity, but like so many of the villains Maleficent was born with the passion to hate all that is good and just.

Correction,_ was _good and just.

Yes, she had seen it all. The younger courts could not see it, but the Trinity could. Snow White, Cinderella, and herself were charged with maintaining the Kingdom's integrity. It was their duty, as given by Loremaster Disney. They, alongside King Mickey, would uphold all that was righteous for posterity, to be a beacon of light for the coming Consummation. The Great Unveiling Time.

Yet the hearts of men are easily broken.

The Trinity first felt the change after the Second Millennium after Jesus Christ came to pass. Snow White's realm was first hit. The land waxed barren. The people went hungry. The storm cloud rallied around, destroying the country side and mangling ships and coastal areas.. Evil walked the land, up and down, to and fro in it. This disaster she brought to King Mickey's knowledge. The good queen pleaded for the King to take action, for now the Evil had started spreading to thee other kingdoms, as Plague sowed its fruit, and the people spoke of things that stalked in the Darkness that should not of even been awaken. Things with claws and teeth, and a thirst for warm blood. The citizens started disappearing in the nighttime, ravaged on the road or dragged from their beds and eaten. All that was left were the morbid remains of stripped skeletons. The Night became a by word for Death.

The cry fell on deaf ears.

The Once and Eternal King spoke and said that hard times have come and passed, yet here we stand. Do what we have done before and all will be made right. Yet these words did little to help the rulers for all, both of the Old and New Courts, suffered. The Grim Reaper took his harvest and the children of the Kingdoms sang _Death _songs.

Help was offered, all that could be done was done. The fae gave their aid, yet even they could not explain nor solve the mystery of the Evil. Storage houses were opened, food was distributed, quarantines were passed to straiten Plague's steps. The magicians plied their craft to heal the infirmed and slow or even halt the storms. The riders and their hounds went forth, through forest and dale, oceans and deserts, light and darkness. Yet all could not halt the Evil, for it hid in the realms betwixt the realms and still sated it thirst for souls. Plague gave new "gifts" to thee unfortunate, and the storms raged on, ravaging what could be grown or saved.

During this wicked waking the once proud Morning Star felt that for all her majestic power she was reduced to the strength of a newborn babe, for she could sit back and hear the broken crying for a savior. There was nil of a thing she could do except give aid and comfort where it was needed. Even in her dreams she heard in to the Void, though not a whisper nor a rumble, but a heavy breathing, as of one possessed of an Eternal **Hunger.** She felt helpless, alone, and…

_Shattered._

And then _HE_ came home, back from the search for the Evil**.** All was good. All was well. The pieces started coming back together. Even Evil hid its face, ceasing and desisting its wicked ways. The land bore life again. The people lived and laughed again. All was content.

Then _it _happened. And all went black.

She knew, beyond a shadowof a doubt, that the **Hunger** had never left, only changed form. For now it was not in the streets, not the forest, neither the body nor in the skies. Now it took refuge in the soul, and where it was all things grew corrupt and warped. She knew it first hand…

She did not know what to do. To be frank, what had happened had never, _never, _happened before in all the Kingdoms. It was made all the worse by the laws that prohibited escaping it, and it was topped as if some madman's dessert by a final realization.

That if she told others about it, she would have to admit three things. The Disney Magic was gone, That Happily Ever After did not exist, and…

She was trapped in a waking nightmare..

A volley of gentle taps rang at the door, followed by a sweet and quiet voice. "Rose, it's time for the masquerade. Are you ready?" It was Aunt Fauna!

"Oh, snap," Briar thought as she shot up from her mourning, the bed stained in tears. She had completely forgotten about the party!

_No, _this wasn't going to be a long day.

Disclaimer: I own nothing.


	2. Breaking In

The Shadow of the Rose 3

The combing, the nails, the dressing up were all flashes in the headlong dash of Briar Rose as she shot like a bullet from position to position, some how spitting out the words "Just a minute!" in to all this madness. She heard Fauna say something, but it was all just a blur. After that Briar could hear dainty footsteps retreating down the stair way.

She could feel her chest heave in pain after the rush was over. All this emotion was bad for her. Crying on moment and clawing around the next. At this rate she could get a heart attack and die.

Now would not that be the perfect escape.

Ignoring the suicidal thoughts, she stood in front of her full-length mirror. She had adorned all the trappings of the court, an exquisite and delicate silver necklace, several 14-karat gold rings bedecked with gems of several kinds, and a gorgeous pink dress. She looked…

Perfect. Just perfect.

She was sick of perfection, and its constant demands.

It is funny how most young and understandably naïve girls want to be a princess. To be wealthy and to be the center of attention. To be beautiful and the envy of all the other noblewoman. To be wanted by all men yet available only to your Prince Charming, who went on some dangerous and mythic quest, facing dragons and dark magic to rescue the sleeping damsel in distress (you). He then climbs the to the highest room in the tallest tower to gentle bend over, pucker up, and kiss you. You then wake up, smile because all your dreams have come true. You then go off and live happily ever after with the man of your dreams, forever and ever.

She knew because she was just like that, once upon a dream. Hopped-up on hormones and hopes and fairy tales. Young and alive. As bright and cheery as the morning sun.

Now, Aurora's hope had faded to Dusk's despair. Maybe that should have been her name. Dusk. So simple, yet so **powerful**. The dying of the light. The falling of the day. The ominous clouds of the coming darkness.

"Your majesty, the Prince awaits." The voice was of one of the servants. Phillip must be waxing impatient.

"TELL HIM TO TAKE HIS CROWN AND SHOVE IT UP HIS (censored)!" was what she actually wanted to say. Instead it was "Tell him it will be just a moment." The words fell out so sickly sweet Briar almost gagged on them. She was sometimes _too _good of an actor.

"Yes, your majesty." Down the stairs he went, precise clips ringing down the way. Briar took a deep breath, counted to ten, and went to the door, mentally repeating the words "You are Princess Aurora, you are the paragon of grace, you are the fairy tale princess perfected." She went to grab her crown, the same one her dear "aunts" gave to her the night she had learn she was of royal birth, the night she was "put to sleep". The one she wore when she awoken by true love's kiss. The one she had born her entire political career. She gently reached for it…

And threw it aside.

Into the garbage to be precise. A fitting place for it if you asked her.

She was tired of the burden of the crown, the pain it brought, the trials it presented, and the pitiful "rewards" it offered. She was ready to snap. Or maybe she had already. There must be a reason why she was still here, in this place, of all places?

She gazed back into her mirror. She gently touched the scar over her eye. Why there is a reason why she must suffer?

She gazed out the window, on to the moon-kissed forest out side the town walls. She remembered the nights she would escape out, out of the woodcutter's cottage and in to the shelter of the trees, the running of the stream, the windswept fields of grass. She remembered the embrace of the starry night, the freedom the night offered. It was the kind of freedom only the creation of God could offer. She remembered the romping through the bush, the running with the deer, the howling with the wolves, the wrestle with the bears. She giggled, something she had not done in a long while. It felt…good.

She loved her aunts. She loved her parents. She even loved her father-in-law. But _no,_ she did not love her life. She stood back from the window, her mind made up. She would escape. No matter the cost. If she could not be free, she could not live with herself. It was now or never.

But how? She would have to be cunning to out wit her tormentor. Sedatives? No, too obvious. Poison? No! She wanted to delay _HIM_, not kill _HIM_! A trap? No, _HE_ would get out, one way or another. "Ah!" she growled in anger. "There has to be a way!"

A sudden movement across the street caught her eye. She leaned over the window, trying to see what had moved. Another flash occurred, but this one was not of flesh and blood, but shadow and darkness. A thin, lanky figure dashed after the spirit, casting no shadow even when hit by the streetlight.

The fair princess grinned, the sort of grin that was not too big but carried the power to disturb souls. "This is going to be fun," Briar Rose whispered to no one in particular as she extended her arms and shut the window, just like she was closing an old chapter in her life and opening a new one.

The party was, for lack of a better word, lively with a _pompous_ air. So thick a knife could cut it, if the poor wielder of the knife could avoid choking on the sheer arrogance in the air. The hall itself was of splendid, if not ostentatious, design. Stone was hung with the banners, colorfully garnished with the heraldry of brave and heroic knights (that ironically were all dead from battle). A royal orchestra played waltz near the thrones, each note a symphony of elegance and art. A long, red carpet with a gold trim was laid out from the thrones (positioned on the opposite side of the two entrances) and diverged to the entrances and the stairway. The stairway descended from the upper levels of the castle, where the hosting couple would magically descend down and walk arm in arm to their thrones. This was the way it was done since the first kiss, this was the way it was _always _to be done. Appearances were the first priority in the chess game of politics, and being a loving couple was like having a queen.

Thankfully, all this pomp was able to escape to the left wall (on the throne's side) where one could walk out on to the gardens through the arches. The entrances flanked the stairs, and at the walls, entrances, and balconies above the main hall were stationed guards. Now to the source of the overweening pride. There was a collection of noblemen and women, prancing around in their expensive wares like the Queen of Sheba and disguised by diverse masks of a colorful nature. Some wore the face of bizarre beasts, others expressing human joy or sadness. Other exotic tastes were the beaked masks of the plague doctor, and the split face of mirth and misery.

Most of the party's guests were petty aristocrats, arriving only to indulge in another's generosity. Others, more noteworthy, guests were of high notoriety and standing. There was Queen Belle and King Adam, rulers of the Enchanted Lands, Sovereigns of Maldonia Princess Tiana and Prince Naveen, and fair Cinderella and Prince Charming of the Kingdom of Crystal Night. Prince Eric and Princess Ariel, of Atlantis and the Northern Coast, were oddly absent.

There were others, such as Merlin of Camelot and the Fairy Godmother, that were noble more of heart than of body. And if the night could not get even more unusual, there were among the press two (in)famous sorcerers. The former vizier Jafar had arrived to report on the night's events (being head of the Disney Daily, Disneyville's most popular and only newspaper, forced him to be part of the to him wholly loathsome and boring gala), and, most bizarrely, the self-proclaimed Mistress of All Evil, Maleficient had been invited by Briar Rose as an honored guest, a sign of "good will" among the heroes and villains was Briar's excuse. In truth it was to have someone to talk to with the intelligence above a inbred chicken and not be bothered by anyone. Seriously, would you want to interrupt a all-powerful dark fae with lightning bolts and the ability to turn into a dragon at will in her disposal? Didn't think so.

Oh, where was I? Ah, yes! The night was pitch black, the only source of light being the luminescent glow of the graceful Luna, her face fully revealed for all to see. Not a soul stirred outside the moonlit castle wall, excluding the guardsmen patrolling the walls and trying to avoid falling asleep. Their lethargy would of proved on most nights not to be of major concern. Not many fools try to sneak into a castle guarded by invisible auras of magic and lived to be able to produce children again. "Nuff" said. So when the "wind" knocked against the walls they chose to ignore it.

The former confidence man glided over the walls as if a being unconstrained by the rules of the physical world. He was one with the Void as he landed in the abandoned gardens, almost laughing at the pitiful security. He had cracked open harder nuts than this, literally! Shades of the Darkness, man and spirit flowed from bush to shrub as they edged closer to the arches, avoiding the guards' gaze and briefly pausing only to silently place a silver coin in the marbled, cherubim-ornamented fountain. "Luck is luck," he considered. "Don't argue with its source." After the Friend Fiasco, he had a hard time trusting anything of higher power.

At the arches was the biggest problem, for there lied a scarlet aura invisible to the unaided eyes, shielding the castle from foreign entry. It would probably kill him in an eye blink, or at least paralyze him long enough for the guards to capture him. The latter would be by far the worse, for such a situation would land him at best land him in prison cleaning toilets for the rest of his life!

Hugging the shadows, he scanned the grand hall. Though not afraid of the fat cats nor the sentinels, he could identify the gathering of magicians and fairies that had graced this shindig. If one of the "good" ones so much as sniffed a whiff of his magical aura, he would be done for. Correction, **well done**.

His companion slightly trembled in concern. It whispered fear in Facilier's ear. "Yeah, I know this isn't the best idea I've had," he whispered back. "But if I don't help her out, who will? That, and I'm curious on why she ran. People don't up and leave without reason." Shadow was not only as curious as his master for an explanation, but was secretly happy at this moral change, for as much as he loved being sneaky, if being dragged to the Spiritworld screaming was the result of being greedy, then maybe being good might be the better choice.

"So what now?" he mumbled. The duo thought upon this conundrum, both stroking their chins. "There's no turning back," Facilier declared. "And there's no going forward, not without a whoopin' and a half in store for us." Facilier hated to admit, but after his return from the Spiritworld he had lost the majority of his power with his "Friends". He looked back at Shadow. The dark one grinned. His master gave the same. "Carpe diem, my friend?"

The guileful thing screeched eagerly in reply.

"Let's go."

He produced his pink powder from his coat and blew a little on a section of the aura. It faded away back to the four winds. The shadow and the man looked at each other, winked, and slipped through the hole. Casting the remaining dust on himself, he took the form of a violet pirate captain (complete with foppish hat), generated the mask of a smiling fool (the kind of person he was feeling like at the moment), and pressed into the mass.

He could smell the noxious perfumes as he made his way to a seemingly clear corner, staying close to the wall and hoping to avoid any notice as he kept an eye out for Briar Rose. Funny how when you try to avoid attention you always run into someone you know.

"What are you doing?"

The voice was pompous, arrogant, and bore a sort of sinister cunning and power. Facilier, who was before scanning the area for Rose, turned to meet his confronter. He was met staring at the robed form of a golden-masked sorcerer, who evil and power was (in)famous throughout the lands. The mask was of a strong-jawed sultan. Tells you what Jafar thinks of himself.

"Jafar!" the witch doctor jumped in surprise. He now knew he was off his game, for at his best he would of seen the former vizier a mile off. Now, he had to come up with something, quick and fast.

"Yeah, that would be my name. Now, assuming that Louisianan accent belongs to a doctor friend mine that has the distinction of being thee only friend I have with a Louisianan accent, _what_ are you doing here, Doctor Facilier?"

"I'm here to have a good time!" he partially lied while placing his left hand innocently on his chest. Yes, it was true he liked to cause trouble, but then if that was his only goal he would been tricking another out of their massive fortune. Like Scrooge McDuck or someone like these noble suckers at this party. "_Et toi_?" he asked persuasively to the Arabian sorcerer.

"I'm here to report on the night's boring and repetitive highlights." It was well known that some of the major reigning powers had a tendency to celebrate their Happily Ever After a little too much for good taste. Plus, it only rubbed it in the face of the villains that they lost.

Puzzled by this, Facilier decided to press on. "So, why are you, head-honcho of the Disney Daily, here instead of one of those other guys? Don't you have bigger things to do than listen to the fat cats talk?"

Jafar looked suspiciously nervous for a second, and Facilier could see his eyes dart ever so slightly to thee other corner, where a certain green-skinned fae was sitting.

"Say no more, friend! I'll leave you be." He motioned knowingly. "All I need is a fava."

Jafar, happy to get the subject off his intentions, straighten his back and reluctantly, seeing the doctor's dark, scheming eyes, said " _All right_, what is it?"

"If any thing goes down that could be," the schemer paused looking for the right words "_Dangerous_, then call in the **Tzarbomba** for me. Immediately."

The sorcerer, reminding you he was known for his evil and sheer power in the dark arts, shook in sheer fear at the mention of the word. "**Tzarbomba!**" he quietly yelled (if there is such a thing). "If I do that, then this whole thing is gonna be wasted!"

"Yeah, yeah!" Facilier threw his hands up defensively. "Keep your turban on!"

"**Tzarbomba! **That is like smoking near explosives! **Tell me**!" demanded Jafar. "Tell me what you are really planning to do?" Facilier could see the sorcerer shake in rage. He would have to be careful.

"I'll tell you, but only if you help me do what I have to do!" Facilier countered. "Whatever is goin' on is **HUGE**, and I could get in big trouble if I get caught."

The sorcerer looked around, partially in fear of being overheard and partially in keeping tabs on his heartthrob. "Is this worth it, Facilier? Is it worth it!"

Flashes of memories hit the witch doctor's mind, flashes of pain, of mental slavery, of a caged bird singing alone, forsaken, and unloved.

"Yes."

Jafar saw the change in the confidence man, his eyes losing their humor and being replace by an ardent flame, an all-consuming flame. He could tell it was worth it.

"All right, but if the law traces the call back to me and I end up in a rat-infested dungeon with rapists, I blame you." Jafar pointed to the witch doctor to add emphasize to whom his direction of blame was going for.

"Relax." Facilier said, ignoring the burning stare of mistrust and loathing. "When have I ever failed you?"

"Don't get me started."

Taking this as his cue, the Shadowman slide back in to the crowd, hoping and praying the his plan would be successful. Figuring that it would be a while until his princess would appear, he snuck by the refreshment table for a drink. Making himself at home (and avoiding two fat kings laughing and talking about grandchildren and marriages, who looked remarkably similar) he secured a glass of wine and put it to his lips.

The sound of trumpets rang through the hall, scaring Facilier into a jump and forcing his hand to tremble and spill the cold drink on himself. "Ah, frog-legs!" he swore as he looked, his eyes full of ire, to the source of the disturbance. There were two rows of trumpeters at each side of the carpet (all dressed in a blue hauberk with the realm's rose heraldry on it), and a herald stood at the left of the stairs. "Presenting the future rulers of the Rose Realm, most mighty and magnificent magistrates, Prince Eric and Princess Aurora!" The crowd cheered in reply as Prince Philip, dressed in his standard attire ("How original," muttered the witch doctor.), stood awaiting at the halfway mark of the stairs. He wore a smiling, snow-white mask with his crown (a traditional gold, jewel-studded one), and was extending his right hand to the top of the stairs. But that was not what caught Facilier's eyes.

At the stairway's zenith, standing like the Evening Star herself, gracefully descended Briar Rose, who was wearing her rose-pink dress and holding a (ironically) smiling face in her left hand. She glowed like Luna herself, her pale skin and slow descent catching thee eyes of all the party's guest. She was perfect in all things feminine, beauty, wit, love, and inner strength. Facilier knew that in all his existence he would never see another mortal being so beautiful on this planet, **no**, in this universe, as her. He was flat out moonstruck.

But, he also knew that she needed help, one way or another. She needed a hero, whether or not she would admit it. Unfortunately, she was stuck with him.

Shadow squirmed in anticipation.

The royal orchestra stuck a tune worthy of the moth's flight as the two sovereigns met hand in hand. The couple eyes' locked, but there was something off about the lover's gaze that did not feel…right. But there was another oddity that threw the doctor off, an certain detail most befuddling to his mind. And it was…

Disclaimer: I own nothing


	3. Breaking Free

By Mad March Hare

Briar Rose stepped down the stairs, graceful as a dove's descent. She heard the trumpets roar, the gentry cheer, and the nobles sing "Hail to the Princess Aurora!". "Oh, how tedious that dreadful tune is getting!" she secretly bemoaned.

She smelled the aroma of fine meats, of flowers sweet, and perfume offensive to her nature-loving nose.

She felt the tap of her shoes land against the cold, stone stairs.

She felt the heat of the man holding her arm, a little too tight for her taste. She was suddenly thankful that the mask she had grabbed did not have to constrict her face

She could sense it all. Each step, each click, each tock from the clock hanging over the left wall, signaling the seemingly eternal passage of time and its ability to mock those who cared too much for it.

But inside, she was Void.

Each move was rehearsed, not by intentional practice but by years of repetition. Each step was refined to perfection, each smile deceitful, each loving grasp and gaze a simple illusion. That is was how everything felt, cold, mirthless, fake. For now she was a wingless angel , broken by the evils of her life.

But, now, even with each step she took, this angel was taking flight. The wings were restored, and thee angel was full of a passion to fly once again. This ardent passion, when tempered by cold skill, forged a blade that could slice through the bars of slavery. Like the wild-winged Phoenix, she would rise again.

Step by step.

Doctor Facilier stepped though the crowd, disturbing not a soul nor a thing. Shadow sneaked along, but contrary to his master took the opportunity to torment a few guests. This tormenting involved sexual harassment to any women's shadow in the general area and various things being knocked over (or onto innocent people's feet or heads). Glasses broke in one's own hand, pants were pulled down, and masks were pulled and snapped in thee owner's face. This went on until Shadow received a stern gaze from his master. Getting the message, he rejoined his master, like a loyal puppy, and took on his casual form. Looking behind him, Doctor Facilier saw the mess left behind by his mischievous minion.

"I can't take you anywhere, can I?" He mentally muttered to his flippant friend.

An eerie laugh rang alone in his ears. Despite his disappointment, he would not be the Shadowman if he did not love a little _fun_. Doctor Facilier let out a toothy grin as he shook his head, slinking further to the front of the crowd, a malicious chuckle joining the eerie laughter in the perfume-choked air.

Briar Rose and Prince Philip glided over the floor of the hall, spectators admiring the couple's form and perfect grace as they slowly marched to their thrones. It seemed that nary a stone was as so much as touched on their way. Women coveted their elegance and connection as a couple, and men stood by in awe of the very power they radiated in their walk. They were a force to be reckoned, and subtly presented that message.

Briar could not help but internally laugh at the dazzling display of jewelry, color, and design laid before her. Each speck of gold, each line of silk only reminded her how ostentatious the royalty were, and how each coin funding their frivolous ways with coin from some poor, starving creature who had worked the entire day to only have to give it all away to the tax collector. Even she, in all her philanthropic acts and activities she had done (despite Philip's warnings that she was being too generous to the less fortunate), was still apart of a system that only tore down the peasantry. Yet many nobles forgot something, when they told her of how they think the commoners should subject and bow down to those ( by "Heaven" mandate," was their **hole-y **excuse) who held the power by birth.

She was once a peasant herself.

She saw the hand-to-mouth existence of her fellow man. She was there when the farmer's annual harvest was corrupted, when plague struck the tanner's baby, or the weather devastated the blacksmith's forge. She saw it all, and experienced it all, except financial ruin. Looking back now, she should have been surprised that a "family" of three fairies who had never done a day's work in their life and their sickly and pale niece ever survived in the common man's world. She only learned later that her aunts were receiving financial aid from her very own parents. Briar was happy to note, however, that despite this comfortable existence she was also blessed with aunts that were determined to raise a proper child. Lacking the proper skill to teach their own adopted child, Briar Rose was sent around and, in exchange for a hefty pay, was taught how to cook, to sew, to do all the things a peasant could do. The fairies themselves took it upon themselves to teach her (clandestinely) the ways of the gentry, reading, writing, dance, et cetera, et cetera.

To round out these skills were techniques she learned on her own, and at a heavy price. She still have not told her family that she knew how to track deer for hundreds of miles with thorns in her feet and cuts in her legs, that she could out shoot the best archer in her Father's court blindfolded and possibly half-intoxicated, that she could effectively disarm a warrior and kill him with his own blade before he had even drawn his sword.

Where did she learn this? If she was sum it all up, it came down to a simple truth. "Listen, watch, and do not talk, except to ask that which you do not know. You will learn much. And never, never, never give up." Those were the words of the man who in return for food and raiment he gave her first bow and quiver. The rest was up to her.

All this was from a girl who's byname from her childhood enemies was "Stupid, Blonde Twig." She felt a (for once) real smile cross her face.

The throne 's icy touch sliced into her bones.

Doctor Facilier saw the sovereigns perch in their positions. He suddenly lost his humor. Observing the couple, he noted that while the prince's face was concealed his better-half's countenance was unguarded, yet still guarded, not by a veil or simple disguise, but by a trained master of her own emotions. Though none could probably see it, his gifted eyes saw through Briar Rose's disguise. He could see a certain determination, of one who had a plan and was ready to put it into action. He gazed over to the worse-half. His body language was half-decent, but half-decent would not hid the truth, not from Doctor Facilier. He could read Prince Charming like a book

What he saw before was not a loving couple, one that could resist the test of time and sin, but (contrariwise) was ready to snap at any instance. She showed every sign of wanting (an unconsciously trying) to break away, and Prince Philip was hell-bent on keeping her there, with him, no matter the cost. Facilier was surprised it was still intact at this current moment.

Quietly, he closed his eyes, and began to think.

In his mind, the schemer laid his clues out like the pieces to a puzzle with no reference to go by . The pieces, each utterly different yet vaguely familiar, slide in to their positions. A glance there, a movement here, a piece misplaced but soon removed, a veiled tale coming to light in the dark recesses of the witch doctor's mind. He stood back, comparing the work to previous pictures he had seen, and tried to connect it to past knowledge. In the labyrinth of greedy schemes and dark inventions, a single ray of light shone, like a light from the Heavens. And there, like a messenger of a god, was the answer.

Sometimes he regrets knowing so much about other people

Facilier frowned. This answer was disturbing, not the sort of conclusion he had been hoping to find. Yet, the proof was there, and there was (and never thought he would say this) a damsel-in-distress he needed to save. The schemer opened his eyes, and observed once again the royal couple, first Rose, then Philip. And, looking upon the one so thoughtless of their blessings, he wondered…

How could you willingly ruin such a thing?

Doctor Facilier knew fully now what must be done, so help him Baron Samedi! Regardless of the cost, he would be a hero in this tragedy, if only this once. He produced his orbed cane, and said his prays for aid to the Loa.

Then, he prepared for war.

Shadow knew this, and trembled in righteous fury.

Fanfare rang out for the royal dance to began.

Maleficent, from her corner, smiled at the unfolding events before her eyes. She had detected the witch doctor's presence long before he had broken the shield and entered the party with his pitiful bag of magical tricks. He was no better than an street illusionist, with no real magic to call his own but the ignorance of others. Yes, the dear doctor would be broken easily.

If only she was allowed to throw her weight around again. Ah, the good days. How she missed them. When there were families to destroy and love struck fools to trick. Now there was only boredom and a lack of any thing to destroy. True, the Dark Times did allow some amusement. Igniting trolls into cinders and ash. and twisting the very sinews of an ogre's body into _what so ever _she desire, was quite fun. Now, she could only watch the fools of this realm participate in their foolishness.

"Oh, Aurora," she pondered maliciously as she stroked Diablo, her familiar. "Dear, sweet Aurora. What will you do now?"

The hosting couple were the first to approach the floor, with an orchestral, up-beat version of "Once Upon a Dream" being played by the band. Doctor Facilier slid back un till he found a suitable wall to lean on. The cold stone reminded him of the iron of the French Quarter, a constant friend in his time he spent there. Cold. Ice. That is how he felt. Empty. Hollow.

Shadow saw the reclusive stance of his master, Facilier's posture having taken a sunk-in feel, his violet eyes hate-filled at the world around him. Shadow had known, since day one, that when ever the master was not planning any thing, or doing any mischief, or simply just waiting, he tended to sink in to a sort of depression, a sort of emotional valley where he would _burn_ with hatred at all the life around him. Loathing of the rich, the pompous, and the lazy, those who did not struggle like he did in life to simply survive. It was at these stages when Doctor Facilier was at his most evil. And if there was one thing Shadow feared (besides ending up in the Spiritworld again), it was the Shadowman at his worse. Irascible, deadly, and merciless. Oh, and quite heartless. Quite, quite **heartless.**

But soon, as now, his scowl would turn in to an impish grin and the duo would resume their cupidity. An in this scenario, that grin came up just as the other royal couples danced on to the floor, crowding the hosting couple in a display of pomp and dazzle. Thoroughly camouflaged, the man and the monster made their move.

It took only a minor distraction, a passing noble requesting a moment of _**HIS**_ time, for Briar Rose to escape. She made a calm, but to the observant, furious stride to the refreshment's table, where a couple of familiar plump fairies were standing by and taking note of the dance.. Briar steadied herself, closed her eyes, said a pray to God for strength, took a breath, and made her move.

"Hullo, dears. Lovely night, is it not?"

The fairies, the red Flora and blue Merryweather, turned to their dear. "Why yes, Rose," replied Flora. "But, why are you here and not with your Philip?"

Merryweather interjected in "You two are usually inseparable."

Briar Rose (faked) giggled with a youthful tone. "Oh, he had to deal with one of the nobles," she dismissed with a wave of her hand. "You know how they are when they want something. They just take it."

The trio laughed, as all present knew quite well the rigors of court life. There were alliances, the backstabbing, the politics, and the good relations (or lack of) with the peasantry. "Well in that case," added Merryweather "What can we help you with?"

Briar Rose smiled, her lips spreading to consume her face. "Well, I had to throw on a dress today and did not have time to really get the right **color **ofdress on like I wanted to." she purposely added. "So I need a quick wardrobe change, if you do not mind."

"Why of course I'd love to help!" said Merryweather as she pushed aside Flora and removed her wand her pocket. Briar's gaze shot to the thin, white instrument.

"No, no, no!" barged in Flora as she produced her own weapon of mass-coloration. "The dear probably just wanted a better coat of pink!"

"No! She wants a **blue** dress!" piped out as she stepped in front of the approaching Flora, effectively blocking her "shot" at Briar Rose.

"Now dear, we have been over this _countless _times. She does, and always will, look better in **pink**."

"Blue!"

"Pink!"

"Blue!"

"Pink!"

The resulting exchange of verbal artillery left the opening Briar Rose wanted. With a single, graceful act of _larceny_, Briar snatched the two wands and put their tips to each other. With a flick of the wrist, the wands did their thing.

Once again like a falcon riding the winds, Doctor Facilier slide through the crowd's whim and merry, hunting for the Lost Princess. Once again, the Shadowman was looking the wrong way. Once again, the Shadowman discovered he just wasn't as good as he once was.

_**THUMP!**_

He felt the unmovable stone contact his bony backside, sending vibrations through out his lanky form and giving him a sore that would make sitting down a challenge in the near future.

"This is the last time I go to one of these parties." he muttered as he rubbed his head.

Shadow laughed, silently, at his master's agony.

"Oh, shut-up. Your gonna get it after all this is through!" he mentally yelled, only adding to the pain in his head.

Recovering from his concussion and his thought, he tried to as gracefully as possible to reassemble his situation. Putting his captain's hat back on straight, he found what appeared to be young lady in a purple dress, her hair hid in a pointed hat, and wearing a demon's grin on her mask. It was attached to the wearer's face, herself rubbing her head in pain and sitting on her sore rump on the floor. She was, oddly, silent.

"Well, pardon me, _madam_…" he took a quick glance at her ring-less hand. "…_oiselle_." He wisely hid his accent in a high English one as he extended his hand to the fallen women. She looked up, a ire in her eyes that momentarily put the fear of a women's wrath back into Facilier's heart. He prepared himself for impact, but to his relief there was none.

Melting away at the sight of an extended hand, she seemed surprised at this act of kindness. She looked at his face, her sapphire eyes looking deep into his own. Saying not a word, she took the thin hand of the violet eyed stranger that seemed…so warm.

He pulled her up, sliding her instantly in to the waltzing floor. Her eyes lost track of the time and place, existence only a stream of light and sound. Wary of her current situation, she tried to say "Enough" and retake control of the situation but enough never could come, and the lift of the dance made her feel…happy. She attempted to look away, but she was caught in the stranger's eyes.

The pair danced with the grace of the Moon and Sun, each twirling round in a seemingly eternal orbit. He lead, but she supported. She twirled, and he accommodated he. They moved through the other couples, their own moves far superior to any ever produced on that floor since it's creation. Back and forth, to and fro, each step to the song's beat. Envious and admiring others watched in surprise at the sheer beauty of the two's performance. Some whispered in amazement, others in jealousy, but none of it was heard by the two, for they were far away, past the star's reach, past the world's end, in a place only two souls connected, by love, or a bond otherwise unique to them and them alone.

They were lost, and did not mind. They had each other to pass the time.

She lost her silence in one twirl, letting slip a giggle of joy in the midst of all the excitement. "Enjoyin' the night, dear Mornin' Star?"

Oh, sucking elf. Briar Rose had let her guard down.

Hiding her shame, she replied "Yes, I am, Doctor Facilier." She did not show a sign of surprise, even though to be frank she had thought her disguise to be quite cunning. "How did you know it was me?"

If she could of seen his face she would of saw the impish grin that shone through his eyes. "Your laugh. I don't forget a laugh like that.' It was a partial truth, for he did catch her unique, one might say magical laugh. Yet there was more. Her eyes, they were like sky-blue lakes that were pure of any thing corruptible or foul. Her shape was unique, an unnatural bone-like thinness that was common of one who was an unhealthy child. Her grace was all her own, tempered and forged by numerous dances, steps, and routines. Her hands, though he had never touched them, were slightly calloused but were still soft and (more importantly) held a kind, one might say giving air about them.

Shadow circled around the couple, hidden by the dancing and the shadows cast.

"How did you know it was me?"

Briar giggled, a slight chuckle held just between the two of them. " Your eyes, silly man. You forgot to cover them up."

Somewhere, inside of him, Doctor Facilier was taking a step back and kicking himself in his own butt. Covering it up well, he replied with a tone more than just interested 'So why are you'll disguised? Are you hidin' from someone?"

He knew he had asked the right question when it was Briar Rose's turn to squirm. It seemed she ,also, was off her game.

"I will answer this question…"

Facilier tilted his head slightly to hear.

"If you tell me why you are here."

Facilier's head kind of slunk in it's position. "Well, let me see here…" he thought. "If I tell her I've come to help her out of whatev-a was eatin' her up, she will most likely laugh and deny ever needin' help, especially from a villain." Inside his head the little demons of his past were telling him to save what ever was left of his pride and dignity and make an escape.

But, like the voice of truth, there was a petite voice, quiet but quite determined, that reminded him of a little boy, with no home, no friends, or even food or good clothing to comfort him. All he had was himself, alone in a desolate town, himself…

And the cold darkness.

And he embraced that darkness, that greed. And that little boy grew to be a hate-filled man, with his only friend a shadow just like him. And all that hate-filled man and his shadow though about was money, and power, and getting what ever they wanted, no matter the cost.

And he stopped dancing.

This threw the princess off, only by a step, as she looked at the man who, only seconds ago, was consumed by a passion for life and living. Now, with head bowed down and a defeated form, there stood the once mighty Shadowman, stripped of all the lies, deceit, and rage. Inside, there was nothing, just an empty Void.

Just like her.

She touched his masked face, and raised it to meet her eyes. They met, violet eyes and blue eyes, heart to heart, soul to soul.

"You came here to save me," Briar Rose softly spoke, in way Facilier could only describe as like an angel, or even more fanciful, as if she _was_ an angel.

"But you yourself need saved."

An angel to save him. She was _happy _that someone, any one, had reached out to touch her in her sorrow. And she was willing to help him in return.

She was a gift from the Loa.

Shadow took the form of his master, feeling his pain and hope of the witch doctor as if it was his own.

She grabbed his right hand with her left one, and pulling him away said only these words. "Come with me." And come he did, without hesitation or fear, because he knew every little thing would be all right.

Un till 40 inches of tempered steel met his face.

Disclaimer: I won nothing, …. I mean, I own nothing!


	4. Nothing Wrong with Me

The Trampled Rose: _**Nothing Wrong with Me**_

By the March Hare

"So, Doctor Facilier, do you make it a _habit _to intrude upon celebrations you have not been **invited** to?"

Doctor Facilier felt Briar Rose's hand leave his, the lady taking shelter behind the witch doctor. Facilier (ignoring his mind screaming "Get out, get out, GET OUT!") scrutinized his reflection in the blade, making sure he looked good for his death. Pity the mask made this so much harder.

Guards, swords drawn, rallied around the confrontation, still keeping their distance from their lord's work. The guests, on the other hand, held a mix of interest and fear, some getting closer for a better look, others scanning for the nearest egress.

"No, only for parties hosted by pretty-boy fat cats like you," Facilier replied. The witch doctor observed his foe, taking in the cold mask and thee one and only Fairy Godmother standing next to him. "Must've tipped him off," Facilier thought.

"I am honored, _little _peasant," countered Philip.

Ouch. Touché.

Facilier stepped backwards, trying to put distance between him and the blade, but it followed him. Pointy end first.

The two men stared into thee other's cold eyes, each calculating the moves of their opponent.

"And who is the little wench with you? A partner, or acolyte I presume?"

Facilier smiled in his mask. Glancing back at his partner (who had been before ready to run like a Bat out of Hell), the two exchange a small moment of relief and joy.

This could still work out.

Facilier looked back at the sharp, _lethal_ blade.

Maybe.

"Well, you caught me!" Facilier chuckled, throwing his hands back in defense. "**Now**,"

He aggressively re-approached the point, cane in one hand, and the other sliding in his coat for his powder. "Whatta ya gonna do?"

Shadow, who had been getting a stern, mother-like stare down by the Fairy Godmother, reluctantly joined his master's side, sending Facilier messages of "If this fails, I am gonna to leave you, like, FOREVER," from his companion.

"Yeah, yeah. Thanks for the support, _friend_," mentally replied Facilier.

Philip maliciously smiled. "I will have you flogged, dragged through the streets, and locked in a rat-infested dungeon for the rest of your pitiful life. Maybe I will have a torturer come around and "ply" his trade every now and then."

Yeah, screw you too, buddy," thought Facilier.

"Then I will have your mate here," Philip continued, pointing his free hand at the disguised Rose. "And have her locked in the stockades in the middle of the city, where all the little townsfolk can throw _spoiled_, **rotten** fruit at her. Then she will be left there to _**starve**_ and _**rot**_ in a iron cage, hanging on a tree, at a highway where she will serve as an ensample for her evils."

Then he quietly chuckled. "Or if she is a witch, I can have her burned at the stake. How does that fancy you?"

The Fairy Godmother cringed, but held her silence. Laws are there to punish the unrighteous.

Facilier paused. Slowly he turned back to again to Briar Rose. She was now truly frightened, a doe-like fear in her eyes. Facilier grinned "innocently" and looked back. He took a deep breath, laughed with his head hanging down, shaking it back and forth in his flippancies…

Then he _**roared**_.

"**Y'all can break **_**my**_** body!" **Facilier verbally descended on his foe, throwing himself into Philip's face. The only thing keeping him from ripping Philip apart with his bare hands was the 40-inch blade pointing at his chest. **"Y'all can rip **_**me**_** open! But, **_**so help me Samedi, **_**if y'all hurt **_**my**_** angel…"** Facilier twirled, a tornado of pink powder consuming the witch doctor and snuffing all the light in the room. People started to cry out as they stumbled for a light as they collided in to each other in the pitch black. Briar Rose slide into the crowd, taking in the chaos, just as lost as every one else, but choosing instead to use it to her advantage. She knew the two of them would be outmatch eventually (with all the magicians and guards at the party), and was praying for a miracle.

The hall entirety was consumed in darkness, saving an eerie light from Maleficent's staff and the shining grace of the full moon on the floor.

And a pair of violet, vengeful eyes emanating a low, beastly growl.

Philip, in a panic and quite fearful, lunged at them.

Steel clashed steel as the shining sword met the blackened machete of the Loa's servant. A lone fire was lit as the two combatants were locked in mid-strike. It played off the steel and the men, their eyes burning with hatred and uncontrolled rage. But now, where there had been men, their were now monsters. The witch doctor was gone, replaced by the avatar of a death god. The people, even Briar Rose and the mighty fairy Godmother, stood back in shock and awe.

Facilier's former guise was gone. He was now in his normal attire, excluding a sweeping raven-black trench coat now replacing his standard jacket and his skull mask now adorning thee entirety of his face. He was now the servant of _Death_.

"**I'll rip yo very soul apart!"**

Disclaimer: I still own nothing, except for the starfish in my pants.

Mad Hatter (shaking his head): You and your hobbies…


	5. Oh, Death

**Oh, Death**

By the March Hare

Briar Rose dashed through the hall, hitching her skirt to her waist as she ran with every last being of her fiber back to her room. She took the stairs three at a time as a pair of guards went to intercept her at the top. Thinking it ironic that the swordsmen she had employed to protect her and her estate now stood in her way, she dodged a thrust intended to piece her heart and put the man's arm in a lock. Thankful that her men had insurance for all work-related injuries she snapped the man's arm, breaking to in several different places. A cry of pain ripped out of the man's lips as he was tossed aside, rolling down the heights in extreme pain and agony. Feeling a twinge of sorrow enter her chest, Briar Rose never the less thought it a pity that man should suffer alone in his pain. So she grabbed the other man's arm (who had gone to decapitate her), stole his sword, and sent him tumbling down, right and proper.

The crowd below had scattered, fleeing for the egresses. Only a few stayed, among them was Maleficent (interested in the outcome of this conflict) and Merlin, who was stuffing his face and pockets with all the food he could carry. For the most part, though, the floor was now vacant.

Ignoring the feelings of guilt in her chest (some of the guards she had know personally), she kept her eyes on her goal and continued to the self-appointed task. Dashing up through the next set of halls, she was confronted by a wall of shields.

"Kill the witch," cried the captain of the guard. " In the name of Princess Aurora!"

Oh, thee inhumanity.

The echoes of steel rang through the main hall as the Shadowman's machete clashed with Prince Philip's Sword of Truth. It was a fickle dance, at one second favoring the witch doctor, at the other the prince. Both combatants wanted hot blood to flow. Both knew only **one** would walk away from this.

They occupied the center of the floor, but not long did they stay. Philip made a low swing, forcing Facilier to jump back. This led him to being on top of table, fully loaded with rich meats of various kinds. Slipping on a leg of lamb, Facilier felt his head take another blow. Fighting through the blur and grasping his head in pain, he saw a shining gleam be raised high and fall. Instinct took over as he flung himself out of the way, rolling off the table as the intended beheading sliced the table in half. The formerly unanimated delights took to the air, landing all around and even on to the combatants. Philip rediscovered the taste of brown gravy (in his eye) and Facilier finally got to experience some of Tiana's gumbo (on his clothes, and his hat, and even inside his shirt).

Merlin, realizing his free food source had just taken flight, took his cue and ran for it.

"This is going down as one of the worst days in history of worst days," he decided as he wiped the gumbo off his sleeves. He had lost every advantage he had, and was now wishing he had just took Aurora and ran. "Ah, damn mah prideful ways!"

Philip, reinvigorated by the pain in his eye, bellowed and swung to sever Facilier's left arm. Warned by the battle cry of the prince, the witch doctor did what he did best. Hitting the ground as fast as a man exhausted and covered in gumbo could, Facilier landed on his hands as he averted the strike and replied with his own. Kicking his feet up he caught Philip betwixt his legs and (with a death roll an alligator would be proud of) twirled and threw the prince back into the center of the floor.

Facilier grinned. "Bet y'all didn't see that comin'?" he yelled to his opponent, the latter recovering himself. He felt his old energy coming back to him. He was going to win, whether Philip liked it or not, and (for once) do something right in his life by saving the Princess Aurora from her living nightmare.

Philip snapped his fingers. "Guards," he barked. "Kill him.

Previously circling around the action, swordsmen charged in to fill the gap left by the fallen prince. "Oh, boy. Not good." Facilier braced himself as iron tide came in.

He hated being the good guy.

Shadow was having a very bad day.

At the same time our protagonists were looking Death in the eye (and not enjoying it at all), Shadow was (Running? I guess that is what you would just call it) for his life. Fairy Godmother was blasting away at him, making him seriously reconsider working with the witch doctor ever again. He felt a beam of light graze his head. "Geez, O' Pete!" The Shadow slid under a table, a surge of pain ringing through his tail. "Hoo Lawdy! This gal's usin' meh for target practice!" He grasped his tail in pain.

He knew he could not escape out through the way he came, and he could not abandon his friends to Philip's wrath. Another barrage of shots hit the table he was hiding under, destroying it in the process. "But, first thangs first! Save yerself!" He dashed for the kitchen, hounded by the fae and her infernal magic.

Bad day. Very bad day.

Briar Rose wasted little time in dealing with the company of men, leaping off one of the shields and over the wall, running with celerity to her room and ignoring the sounds of crashing metal as the men collided in to one another. "If I ever get command of my castle again," she decided. "I am instating new drills for such occasions."

Catching her breath at the spiral staircase, she had to wonder why she had to have the highest room in the tallest tower as her own. That moment's respite did not last long, for she could hear the footmen fast approaching. " I hate my life, I hate my life, I hate my life…" Re-hitching her skirt, up the stairs she went again.

Flinging open the door to her room, her legs burning like Dante's Inferno. She officially never wanted another set of stairs in **her **house ever again. She took the bed and shoved it against the door, just as the sound of armored men hit the door like a domino effect. It made her think of a Three Stooges.

_**Bump! **_

_**Bump! **_

_**Crash!**_

Ah, the sound was _SO_ satisfying.

She could hear the men fall back wards and down, down, down the same stairs they had spent the last 5 minutes scaling. "Forget the training programs. We'll just get better guards."

She dashed to her closet, her sides aching from the rush. Out came the dresses, the shawls, the every thing. "Where is it?" she thought. "Where is it?"

The sound of unsheathing blade hit her ears. Twirling around she saw a woman in a Chinese skirt, similar to one a young woman would wear when meeting her matchmaker, standing in front of the window. Moonlight graced her long raven-black hair, which was tied in a bun and held in place by a needle. At her side was a scabbard, and in her right hand was a Chinese straight sword. She wore a mask, red in color, and it bore on it the face of a fanged demon-like monster. It bared it's fangs at Briar Rose.

The woman's eyes held a steely determination, as of one who had killed and was not afraid (and more than willing) to kill again.

Briar Rose, "_exuberant_" at the thought of more trouble, growled in reply to the intrusion. If she was to escape…

Fa Mulan would have to be "removed".

For Facilier, life was a series of ups and downs. One moment he would be up (avoiding possible castration) and the next down (evading decapitation). It was not a healthy way to live.

"Oh, I should tell you, good doctor," Philip said as he rose up, wiping the dust off his clothes. "I took the liberty of sending a warrior in my service after your dear lady." He grinned, maliciously. "One that specializes in assassinations and quick deaths." He took a glass of wine off one of the remaining tables. "I thought that by telling you it would bring comfort on your poor, wretched soul." He laughed, the kind of laugh more like a villain than a "hero".

Facilier, through out all this, was fighting a losing battle. He was utterly surrounded, with no aid, and his hopes were sinking low. Despite his tough talk, he knew that for a fact he was weak. He had lost his _"Friends"_, there fore he had lost his powers. All he had now was his powder, his only friend (who was only a minor Lao spirit), and his martial skills. So now what? Give up and die? Give it your all? Die like a hero?

Correction. Die like a villain.

Facilier felt a one of the guard's swords glance his throat.

To die. Oh, to die and let Baron Samedi dig him up from his tomb, laugh at him in the sort of way an old comrade would at his silly pal, and take him to the dirt crossroads of Death. There would be good ol' Papa Ghede, cigar in mouth and a smile on his old, cracked lips, ready to take him to the afterlife. With a tip of hats the two would go on their way, taking the road to the only place that would ever matter to a man. Home, sweet home. Now would not that be grand?

Another cut ran across his chest. His blood flowed free, to be one with the Earth again.

Oh, to die.

_It all went __**silent…**_

Then all he heard were screams.

Note: I am intrested in any feedback on Shadow's new accent. I thought giving him a Southern African-American accent would make him more funny, but I do wish to avoid soudning racist. Please tell me if you like it or not so that I may act accordingly.

Please and thank you,

The March Hare


	6. Blood and Earth

_**Blood and Earth**_

By the March Hare

" I don't know who you are, or what you are doing here," Fa Mulan announced as she took her stance, " But prepare to join your ancestors."

Briar Rose laughed, a bitter one that filled the room with a sort to hatred. This was not for Mulan, but for the twisted scheme Briar Rose felt she had been brought to by God to face a friend in mortal combat. She neither hated God nor Mulan for this outcome, only herself of being too weak to possibly kill a friend.

Even if this friend was going to kill her.

"Jesus Christ, give me strength." she quietly prayed.

She rose to meet her foe. Reaching for her own sword, Briar Rose felt it humorous that her former friend and now foe let her have one last moment to steady herself. How noble of her. However this honor, unfortunately, would neither last nor hold a death blow.

Briar Rose said nothing, only moving in to her own stance. Mulan waited until Briar Rose stopped moving.

"You ready?"

The former princess only nodded her head in reply. The two started to circle one another. Eyes locked eyes as the two measured the other, strength and weakness, fast and slow, the right move and the wrong. Each fact was filtered, computed, and readied for use in the Dance of Death

A crow cawed in the distance.

"DIE!" cried the Chinese warrior as she lunged for the kill.

Briar steadied herself, deflecting the impact of the attacker and countering with her own. Avoiding the counter, Mulan slide past the blade and attempted to skewer Briar's head. Briar threw her head back, but not enough. The blade cut threw the mask, destroying it and cutting a gash in to Briar Rose's unscarred part of her face.

In such circumstances, normal people scream, clutch their face, and fall to the ground. Crazy people ignore the pain, break the face of the fool who slashed theirs, trip the fool's stance, and (when downed) kick the fool's head unconscious. You can guess which option Briar Rose chose.

It only took a second, and the last sound that was emanated Mulan's lips was a short yelp. Short, sweet, and simple. The victor, how ever, did not feel any joy. Rose looked on the unconscious body and shook her head, wiping the blood out of her eye.

"Forgive me, dear." She ran back to the closet, hoping, **praying **there would be her prized possession.

The door was hit, **hard**, and splinters went flying from the door. "Sucking elf!" swore Briar Rose. Those men were back! She had to leave it, whether she wanted to or not.

Some days, she really hated her life. No, she **loathed** it.

Quickly creating a bandage out of ripped bed sheet, she took a quick scan of her surroundings, and she realized there was no real escape route except…

The window.

The curtains were too weak to serve as a rope, and so were the bed sheets. That only left was the one thing she did not trust to support her weight.

The ivy.

Taking to the balcony, she gripped the closest vine scaling her tower. She had to throw her sword down to do so, as she lacked any where to put it safely, praying it would not break on the ground. Blessedly it did not. After that she climbed unto the balcony's sides, taking a moment to steady herself and prepare for her descent. She just needed a second…

A louder bash rang from her door. She heard it crack.

"No time! No time!". Oh, how she _envied_ Rapunzel's hair at a time like this!

Taking a flying leap of faith, she leapt on to the tower's side, hugging it with all her might. Her heart beating like a jackhammer, she began to descend. Though a magnificent climber ( the sheer number of times her aunts yelled for her to get out of a tree's top would, being beyond human count, serve as testament to this), she was never the less exhausted by the night's events, and found herself gasping for air. Her muscles were sore and burned, making her climb hurt like there was no tomorrow.

"It is all right," she consoled herself. "You are doing great.." She slowly took hold of a lower vine, determinately climbing her way down. She took a moment to look down and see her progress.

The world blurred as a wave of nausea hit her like a rock. "You can do this, you can do this…" she repeated, rallying her senses to avoid possible vomiting. She closed her eyes and raised her head. She could smell the stone and vines, their natural, terrestrial smell bringing sense and comfort to her mind. "Now," she joked. "Just as long as a dragon does not come along and spoil this, I will be all right."

A hacking sound rang from above. "What the…!" Briar Rose's head shot up, revealing a figure from her nightmare.

Fa Mulan had awakened and was cutting the vines!

Hopelessness hit Briar's soul as she realized that Mulan was about to cut the last of the vines. It was the only thing keeping her on the wall. What was she to do?

Her eyes looked down, looking for any thing that could save or comfort her fall. Naught but the grass strip separating her tower and the wall replied. Lamenting her lot in life, she had only one option left.

* * *

Mulan sluggishly swung her sword to finish her duty. Struggling through the migraine pounding in her head and the black eyes obscuring her sight, she severed the vines. Joyful at her hard-fought triumph, she gazed down to watch her villainous foe fall! The wretch had only the earth to catch her now!

She eagerly viewed the look of defeat in her opponent's eyes as the witch pathetically looked for an escape. When reality finally kicked in, the villain looked back up into the eyes of her destroyer, but not with hate or disappointment at their failures, but forgiveness and sorrow. Mulan was taken back. "What's this!" she cried in her heart.

She knew those eyes! She could hardly see them, but she could tell that those belonged to…!

The vines lost their hold, letting slip and falling, taking their charge with them. The charge herself paused,

Breathed…

Relaxed…

And let go.

She pushed herself against the wall, projecting herself over to the wall in a leap of faith, her dress flapping like a violet raven in flight. She appeared as a mystic moonlit Phoenix in flight, giving it all up just to be free, just for _one_ moment.

She traveled one meter.

Two meters.

Three meters.

She was half-way there!

Four meters!

Five meters!

And…

she missed the wall.

Down

Down

Down she went.

She fell to the cold ground, as if she was in a rush to be buried in the earth…

* * *

Briar Rose found it no surprised she had missed her mark. The only thing that surprised her was that Fa Mulan seemed terrified at her climatic death, crying out loud her fears. It seemed something had clicked in the Chinese warrior's mind, and she panicked and bawled out "Aurora!", her breast heaving with possible sorrows. By now, though, words held no power to save Rose now.

O, well. Too late now.

How ironic. To have risen _figuratively_ so high only to _literally_ fallen to her demise.

She closed her good eye, and accepted her end, Her only companion in Death the cold winds whistling by her.

_Oh, Death_…

* * *

_**SNATCH!**_

Briar Rose's body jerked at the last moment, snapping her awake as an invisible force yanked her up and back into the air. "What sorcery is this!" she exclaimed as she looked around and saw none lifting her up. She heard Mulan shout in joy and caught her purple hat laying on the ground, the force of recovery enough to send it off. It was almost as if a magical force was doing this or…

"Shadow!"

A light-hearted screech rang in the atmosphere as Briar Rose saw her own shadow in the arms of Facilier's friend, the latter carrying her back down to good ol' terra firma in a more graceful ( and pleasant) descent. Feeling the comfort of nice, safe ground on her feet again, she embraced (as best as she could) Shadow in a hug. "Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you!" The spirit being dismissed it as nothing with his hands, almost as if he was saying "Oh, it nothin' sweetheart".

"But that is!" motioned Shadow as it pointed to the crude, bloody dressing that veiled part of Rose's face. It kind of, in Shadow's opinion, made her look cool, like a enigmatic warrior hiding their face from the world.

Half mask, half bandage, all _awesome._

"Oh, that.!" she modestly dismisses. "Tis naught but a scratch!" It was an innocent denial, but in full truth it was ringing like a bell of pain in her face.

"Now!" Briar Rose declared as she recovered her sword from the ground. "We should go and fetch the good doctor now, should we not?" With a hitch of her skirt and a wave forward with her hand, the duo rushed around the corner to aid in their comrade in arms.

"This gal's crazy," decided Shadow.

* * *

Fa Mulan steadied her breathing, trying to take in the volley of emotions she had just felt. Pity life had no patience to let one take a break.

The door to the room was smashed open as the footmen came crawling over the bed, getting tangled up in the sheets. With various cries of "Hey, watch were yer puttin' ye sword" and "Who hit me?" emerged the captain of the guard. Bristling with anger and tired to the bone, he looked ferociously around for Briar Rose. With blood shot eyes and a gasping voice he pointed to Fa Mulan and said "You, (HUFF, HUFF!") assassin! (GASP! HACK!) Where's the witch!" (HACK! HACK! COUGH!) He was now bent over, catching his breath in agony.

Fa Mulan squared her shoulders and frankly **lied.** " She had just leapt from the window, out on to the wall, where she made her way into the city." At least it was **sort of** 1/3 true.

The man swore under his breath and pointed to his men. "Lads! (BIG BREATH!) We got to make our way back down!" The whole of them, panting like dogs, started to grumble about their lot in life. "We just climbed up a flight of stairs twice and you want us to…"

"_**NOW!"**_

Little fire trails were all that were left in their wake.

"Misses Fa," the burly man continued. " I would like it very much if you could…"

The word trailed as the man slowly started to wax lethargic. "If…you…could…"

**Thump.**

Mulan was caught unawares as the armored captain fell asleep on her, leveling her back down to the floor and reawakening her head-splitting migraine. Swearing up a Chinese storm, she felt as if things could not get worse, as the heavy captain had her pinned and her old wounds were acting up.

Boy, was she wrong!

The sudden pain would of made her practically unable to function, making her to struggle to remove her burden all the more harder. But as she said every foul word in the entire array of Chinese dialects, she felt herself lose consciousness, as if under a **spell**. Feeling her eyes close, and her heart slow down to gentle beat, she felt as if as she wanted to do was sleep the decades away.

The last sound she heard was an orchestra of collapsing men as their metal coverings collided in to one another as they too succumbed to the Sandman.

At least Aurora, despite what ever was going on, was safe. For now.

* * *

Briar Rose followed the panicking Shadow, sticking close to the wall, just in case. Rose knew that the spirit was deeply concerned, seeing how it seemed to be looking around like it had lost something irreplaceable and worth more than all the gold in the Disney Kingdoms. But then, he was not alone in that feeling.

Discovering the dim firelight emanating from the arches, they scurried in to the dark hall and found…

Corpses. Sliced to ribbons and flung all over the once-arena. It was a monstrous sight, as it seemed who ever had done this had cleaved through the very steel of the guard's armor. Limbs, heads, and torsos were all divided from their owners and separated to the four winds. To top this all off the fire from the hearth created elongated shadows that, in the obscure light, looked grotesque in form and size. The only living things in the room were Prince Philip, Maleficent…

And the _Shadowman._

The dark man stood over a kneeling over Philip, holding the prince's hair in his right hand and the black, bloody machete in the other. The blade was pressed so close to Philip's throat that there was already a small trickle of blood flowing already. Philip was not in the best of shapes, his sword **smashed **and at two separate ends of the room, and his body bearing enough cuts and bruises to kill most men. But that was nothing compared to the doctor.

* * *

Facilier himself looked mad as Hell, his skull mask in the dark light making him look like a spectral beast. The blade was dripping, correction, flowing with fresh **blood**. The witch doctor's chest heaved up and down, evidence of whom had just slaughtered the entire company of men. His eyes were blackened, and his nose was broken in to a lopsided position. Blood flowed free from his arms, legs, chest, **everywhere**. His dapper clothes were now soaked in sweat and blood, and his trench coat ragged and tattered. He looked like garbage, and he sure felt like it too. But hurt it so _good. _A maniac's glint formed in his eyes and a demented grin split his face (it was so disturbing Philip could not even look at the witch doctor), like a demon who had won and taken another soul for his glory. He had taken the day, and now he was going to take home a little trophy.

**Philip's head. **

The blade was risen to the sky.

Philip cringed.

Shadow leapt in joy.

Maleficent smiled.

And Briar Rose**…**

* * *

_Oh, Death…_

* * *

Note: Check out "**The Horned King - My Name is Death"**on Youtube. You will not regret it.

Disclaimer: I own nothing.


	7. In Which Things go from Bad to Worse

_**In which Things go from Bad to Worse…**_

By the March Hare

**Author's Note: Sorry for the long wait. **

_**We're **__**back…**_

* * *

"**NO!"**

The blade halted, slowly and unsteadily. Doctor Facilier looked up, the smell of Death hanging heavy in the room.

"No? **NO!" **he replied.

Yes, **no**. Briar Rose charged in, her mask flying off as she deflected the machete with her sword and stood in front of the kneeling Prince Philip, staring the doctor straight in his purple eyes. Her now once warm eyes were like shards of ice, frozen in their determination to stop the fatal blow.

"Why the Hell would you want meh to **not **kill dis fool?" Facilier was mad, and deeply (**deeply**) confused. "This man has beaten you, smacked you around, and done torn you down to your very soul's grave?" he was clutching his head, tearing his hat off and ripping at his hair. "You better start givin' meh answers or I'ma gonna go crazy!" 

_Author's Note: Again._

Briar Rose was quiet, deathly silent it could be said, as she bowed her head. Her fists were clenched, and her body shook as tears starting to flow. Facilier stopped his anger as he realized something was **really** wrong here from the start, and he had missed it.

Her tears turned to complete sobs as she broke down, her body collapsing to the floor as she tried to say the words in her heart, but to no avail. The once mighty Princess of the Rose Realm and the Lady of the Morning Star was now reduced to her simplest form. Her knees on the ground, and her hands shielding her face from the world, she was (what we all really are in the end)…

A crying, sniveling babe.

Every one around, from the Mistress of All Evil , the Shadowman and his shadow, even Prince Philip, watched and waited, ears itching to know what the princess had to say.

Facilier got down on his knees and wrapped his arms slowly around the weeping women as he begin to rock her back and forth, all the time whispering "It's all right, it's all right." in her ear.

After a moment or two (for time did not matter in this situation) Briar Rose struggled through the tears, regained her breath, and looked Facilier in the eyes once again. Her eyes, once ice-cold, were now like two lakes over filled with water and were now draining away the pain as best as they could. She began to speak again and, with great difficulty, started to speak.

"Because… because…"

Maleficent leaned in. Shadow stood right by, awaiting the answer.

"Because what, Aurora?" Facilier beseeched.

Briar Rose closed her eyes.

"Because Philip is my **True Love**."

You could of heard a pin drop.

In Facilier's case, you could of heard a pin drop **on the planet Pluto.**

"What?" begged the doctor.

Briar Rose stood up, followed by Facilier. She took another deep breath.

"Prince Philip is my **True Love**. Philip was the one who saved me from the dragon, Philip was the one who broke the spell."

Her voice started to regain its strength. "_Philip_ was the one who brought me back to my Mother and Father. _Philip_ was the one who took me horse riding through the kingdom. _Philip_ was the one who helped me fit in to the gentry when I was just a peasant in their eyes."

Then her voice was back, now stronger than the mightiest rushing winds. "**Philip** was the one who held me when I cried. **Philip** was the one who told me I would be his **forever**, and no dragon or evil spell could take that away!"

"**That man!" **she roared, pointing to the sad sack on the floor. **"Is not PHILIP!" **She began to cry again, this time her tears not holing her back, no not a bit. **"And I want MY PHILIP BACK!" **She was losing her mind, her voice starting in to break and twist under the strain of her flooding emotions. **"AND YOU KNOW WHAT IS FUNNY! I DO NOT KNOW WHERE THE HELL HE IS!"**

* * *

"That man," was at this very moment considering the thought of a hasty retreat. He now knew the witch was his wife, but that mattered not to him when his life was close to being **cut** short by a mad pagan with a oversized butcher knife. He even would of got a head start if it was not for a certain dark fae summoning forth greenish-black tendrils to hold him fast on the ground. The prince grunted and struggled, but that only made Maleficent even happier. To the Mistress of All Evil, this was a small measure of just reward Philip deserved for hurting Aurora, her…her…well, she would not say friend (too nice and kind), and she could not say acquaintance (to close for that). Her favorite enemy! That's the word! So, yes. Just reward for hurting her favorite enemy!

And Maleficent just loved to **hur**t people.

* * *

Facilier was befuddled, addled, bewildered, bumfuzzled, discombobulated, flustered, and worse. This was not answering his original question. In fact, this was only adding more questions to his first question!

"Aurora, forgive meh if I'm wrong here," he really was trying to do put this nicely. "But isn't **that **man (who was for some odd reason tied to the ground in dark tendrils) Prince Philip?"

Briar Rose laughed, her bitter laugh that showed Facilier how **mad **she really was. "You…you…" she shook her head and rubbed her head in pain. "Naive, blessed, blind man. How could my **True Love**, the only one that could awaken me from my destined 100 year slumber, be the same man that has done this," she said pointing to her scar on her left eye. "To me, unless he be under a dark spell of sorts." Her tear stained eyes were worn, tired, and ragged. She looked worse than she had ever done before, but now she had her fire back. And there was no way she was going to give up now.

Facilier was lost. He thought Aurora's intentions were to leave her husband, not try to change him back to being good. When you have hit the wife-beating stage of a marriage, it was usually time to call the union quits! But she did have a good point about the **True Love **thing. If she and Philip were not meant to be together, forever, then a kiss from Philip would of never woke Aurora up in the first place. That now left only one problem…

Facilier looked over to his constant companion since his first days of being a bokor.

"I'm in love wit' Aurora." Shadow twirled in worry.

These words, spoken through telepathy alone, were the basis for the reason Facilier was here. True, it was also now part of his master scheme to go from a scheming villain to a not-a-true-hero-but-sort-of-antihero-who-still-does-his-best-at-being-good hero, but there had been no real reason to really change until he met Aurora. Sure there was the unexplainable hole in his life, but that has always been there. After meeting her, he had dreams of a real life and the possibility to have a love to call his own, and not just a bunch of loser villains to hang around while he tried to scam people who knew better by now while he bemoaned over his lost opportunities and a magical power he no longer possessed. But now…

It was all in shambles. Aurora still loved Philip and he was still alone (well, at least in the love department). So what now? Quit? Give up? Move on and ignore all of this? Succumb to his greed again?"

Facilier took a moment to look upon the damage he had caused. Dead bodies, torn up wooden tables and destroyed food was ubiquitous to the hall's décor. It seemed, despite his best efforts, he would always have that accursed daemon with him, haunting his soul until the day he died. He then looked back at the Lady of the Morning Light. Her eyes sparkled like the Evening Stars themselves, and, suddenly, for some out-of-reach reason, there was hope again.

"Ya got mah help, Aurora" he announced, putting his hat back on. "But I want ta know how ya'll plan on doin' this."

* * *

Briar Rose sighed pure relief. She had grown fond of her new friend (correction, _friends, _spying the sneaky Shadow) and knew Doctor Facilier was at a rough time in his life. Maybe doing some good would _do_ some good for him.

"Well, first off you can start by calling me Briar Rose."

The witch doctor looked surprised for a moment, but accepted the change. Shadow was starting to relax and was listening with interest.

"And second…"

Police sirens shrieked in the distance.

Briar Rose stopped cold, her eyes wide in disbelief. "No. _NO_. **NO!" **she cried, her face going blood red as she pounded against the earth. "**NO, NO, NO! It is too late! It is too late to start the ritual!" **Philip began to laugh.

"Too late, **whore**. The police are here and there is nothing you can do but pray I tell them that you are innocent, while your _**friend**_here is taken downtown for his trial," he guffawed manically again, rejoicing in his sin. "Where he will most likely be executed for his treacherous attempt to kill a royal couple."

Facilier growled. "All right!" He approached the prince in a blind rage. "This **bastard**'s head is coming off!" He redrew his blade to finish the work. Shadow joined his master's form to savor the act just as much as Facilier would.

Philip shut-up as his fears hit new heights.

A greenish black fire appeared, producing a wall that blocked the bokor and the spirit from the prince. Facilier shielded his eyes as Maleficent stepped forth.

"You shall do no such thing." the dark fae announced as she motioned with her staff. "If you kill the prince then more powerful authorities than what you will already be facing will step, the Black and White Court for ensample."

Facilier swore. The fairy was right. A whole castle of guards could die and only the normal enforcers would step in, but trifle with the Black and White Court and you will wish you were dead.

Facilier tried to ask about what they should do now, but Maleficent beat him to it.

"Go," she declared with a wave of her hand. "Take Rose with you and flee. I have already cast a spell to make those still in the castle fall asleep and forgot what has conspired. As for the police," she smiled. "I will handle that."

Facilier did not have time to question how she intended to do this. The red and blue lights of the police cars were piercing through the windows. The bokor and the shadow ran over to the weeping princess, who was now falling apart as we speak.

"Come on, darlin'," he tried to pick her raging body up. "We gotta go!" Briar Rose continued to pound the ground in despair, crying out to the heavens "Why me! Why me! To hold true love and to watch it burn slowly in Satan's grasp!" After much "convincing" Facilier and Shadow dragged her away, passed the gardens and into the shadows..

Her wails could still be heard long after she was gone in body.

Philip, despite watching his schemes all falling apart, guffawed anew. Maleficent gagged his mouth with a dark tendril. "How you ever beat me is beyond my understanding."

The dark fae sighed in disgust. A shiver of fear (though she would never admit it) crawled over her spine as a dark realization came over her. Only one thing could turn a hero like Prince Philip into a sin-bound monster.

"The Evil is back."

Oh, well. Just another day in "paradise".

Despite not being an emotional person (excepting rage and jealousy), she felt regret at the way things had turned out. She could (plainly) tell this was not what Briar Rose had wanted, and she was not in the mood to explain where all the dead bodies had come from.

Then a (dark) light bulb appeared over her head. "Maybe I will not have to…"

* * *

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**


	8. WTFF! What The French Fries!

_**WTFF (What The French Fries) **_

By the March Hare

Jafar stumbled out of the bathroom, gagging on the smell of filthy restrooms and disgusting toilets. How a man could afford a set gold-plated china and silverware and not be able to hire at least a half-decent maid was beyond him! He so mad right now, he did not even realize a strip of toilet paper was stuck to his feet.

Needless to say, Jafar had had better days.

"Well, at least the hall is clean…"

That is when the smell of rotting corpses hit his nose. He swayed, feeling his dinner make an encore performance in his throat. "What in the name of Allah!"

Cue _O' Fortuna_.

Police sirens rang in his ear as before him occurred the most epic fight scene he had ever seen. Facilier and Philip were locked in mortal combat, blades once again drawn to sever life from it's tenuous grasp. Corps of soldiers, bearing halberds and the heraldry of the Rose Realm, were fighting from the staircase, facing Inquisition forces (bearing spears and swords to hew their foe) led by Judge Claude Frollo, sword in one hand and iron-bound Bible in the other. Scriptures with lines like "Teach my hands to war!" and "Break them like a rod of iron!" rang forth from his lips like blasts of fire purging the souls of the wicked.

Arrows descended from the upper stairs as Philip's bowmen exchanged fire with pirates returning musket fire. They were throwing primitive grenades into the crowds, scattering the troops like ashes to the winds with cutlass and boarding axe. More of the royal guard came in with the cry "For God, glory and country!", swinging silvery-rapiers like the Three Musketeers. The commoner and the noblemen met in melee, as smoke from the gunpowder made the hall unperceivable, though the song of war could be easily heard with its cries of pain, savagery, and cruelty.

"Can this get any worse!" Jafar moaned in despair.

A wall exploded in a shower of stone in mortar, forcing Jafar to duck and answering his question in one fell stroke.

Tables were overturn as a horde of Huns came in through that hole-in-the-wall on horseback and, with battle cries for blood and gold, peppered the royal guard with arrow fire. At that same moment a troop of Chinese warriors charged in, returning fire with gunpowder and muskets. Smoke filled the air as fires raged around, lit by sparks from magic missiles from a wizard's duel betwixt Merlin and Madam Mim. Even Cruella De Vil had a piece of the action, her car embedded in to the thrones as Madame Medusa and Grimhilde (both bearing roaring shotguns in to the crucible) confronted Snow White and Prince Adam (formerly known as the Beast) had, for some odd reason, .44 Magnums in both hands returning fire.

Police sirens beat the air, unfazed by the death knells and war cries emanating from the hall.

Jafar was lost, truly unable to know how this could of all happened in a **5 minute bathroom break**. All he knew at this moment was that he was going to kick Facilier's butt so hard that thing was going to be crooked for the rest of his days!.

With a prayer to a Allah on his lips for mercy and forgiveness, the former vizier dashed under a broken table for safety. Flipping out his cell phone and (hoping no one would be tracking it) went to speed dial to a number called "Mother Russia."

_Click._

"Please no rapist, please no rapist, please no rapist…"

A electronic, but clearly Cockney, accent came on through.

"This is Mother Russia, repeat, Mother Russia. Who is this?"

Jafar, in as calm as a voice as a man ready to run for cover from Huns and flying cast lead balls, replied "Yes, this is Jackal's Son to Mother Russia. Repeat, Jackal's Son to Mother Russia." Whoever came up with these names was going to receive a complaint and a fire ball from him one day. "I am at Snoozin' Rock, repeat, Snoozin' Rock. Get me…" and, in the most serious voice he could muster, said…

"**A Big Boy!"**

* * *

_!,000 feet above Briar Rose's castle…_

"This is Mother Russia, Mother Russia to Jackal's Son. We are delivering the Big Boy to the Snoozin' Rock."

Bill the Lizard, in his casual (and very dirty) chimney sweeper's attire, was at the plane's controls, swerving left and right in his desperate control to fly the bomber. It would seem to the casual observer that Bill did not know how to fly a plane, which would be untrue.

He could fly a paper plane like a champ.

That was the extent of his aviation skills.

The plane swerved as Bill struggle to hold his nerve (and his lunch) down. Looking to the window on his left (and wondering how he was ever talked into this) he could see the Snoozin' Rock ( Briar Rose's Castle to the normal people) in the distance. The castle was surrounded by police lights, like a mountain surrounded by spectral flames. The lights inside it were still burning brightly, but were there had been galas and feasts to drown a man's sorrows there was only the stillness of the Void.

A cold chill rode up his spine..

Turning to his copilot, the Mad Hatter (Reginald Theopilus the Third to his friends), Bill shook his head and said "I don't know, 'Atter. I got a bad feeling" he said pointing to himself "Right in the pit of me stomach." To emphasize the point, he then pointed to his stomach, which was growling like a cornered street cat.

"Be at ease, my soot-smelling friend." The lanky hatter declared, leaning back in his seat with a cheeky grin and drivinga 376,000 pound bomber with his feet. "We have done this a hundred times, and we have yet to fail." He then paused, his voice lowering in pensive thought. "Though we have suffered multiple contusions, concussions, dismemberments, lacerations, and castrations in the process."

Bill didn't know his morale could sink any lower until now.

"So why did you talk me into this mess?" Bill questioned as the plane shook like a maraca on crack.

"Simple." he said as he pulled his hat over his eyes, seemingly oblivious to the turbulence. "Since you have never flown a plane before, we thought it right and proper to teach you." Another cheeky, yet oddly demented grin skewed his face. "And what better way to teach you," he said with a maniacal wave of his hands "Than in the field, where a single mistake can cost you your life or (WORSE) your very manhood! Not to mention your spleen, brain, appendix, left ear lobe, right cheek (and I'm not talking about your face), tailbone, thumb, nose,…."

Bill was ready to jump out the window.

"Just get the bomb ready, all right?" Bill interrupted

"Hey, don't get angry at me." he parried. "You **asked **for the job." Leaving his seat, Reginald left his seat and made his way to the back.

Bill smacked his head **hard **against the steering wheel. The plane swerved again.

"I 'ate me life."

Climbing through the (literal) mountain high piles of hats, tea cups, smuggled goat liver, tapioca pudding, and chicken teeth to get to the bomb hatch, Reginald Theopilus the Third hummed a merry tune about shoes and ships and sealing-wax, and cabbages and kings!

This unfortunately left him unaware of his footing. To the say the least, he made the downhill part of the climb a lot quicker.

Landing on his hind-quarters, he found himself in the bomb hatch were (_surprise!_) was a bomb, with a pin up Alice in Wonderland girl on it. Reginald banged **violently **on the explosive marked **CAUTION: DO NOT HIT HARD **and yelled "You ready, Tzarbomba?"

A furry hand emerged from the bomb, giving the "thumbs-up" to go.

"Good, **for**!" the madman replied with a finger pointing knowledgably to the sky. "_My dear __**friend**_, this will hurt like getting hit in the groin 15 times plus **I x N = pi**!" he hollered.

Another swerve shook the plane

"**Perfect!" **cried a barely contained shout of joy from the warhead. "But we should truly, _and with most haste_, reconsider to whom we let fly us on our little escapades!"

"Agreed!" the mad hatter cried. "We have had a breakthrough," he stood erect, saluting the missile. "**OR a breakdown**! **BOMB VOYAGE!**" cried Reginald as he ran from the hatch, holding his hat to his head and crying to the plane's front "Go, go, go!"

And go the bomb went whistling down, with a mad fool and 200 tons of tapioca pudding unsecured to the plane.

* * *

Jafar hit his staff on the ground in a panic, "poofing" out of the building and leaving behind only red cloud of fiery smoke.

Maleficent smiled. Stroking Diablo from the safety of a nearby tree, she had just witnessed Jafar's escape from the madness. Looking back into the castle,she vanquished the _**illusions**_ with a flick of her hand. All in the castle was silent once more.

"Perfect," she said with a malicious, low laugh. "Tonight was well worth my time."

With another wave of her hand, she vanished from the night in a display of emerald flame. She would rather watch the following events **far, far, FAR away.**

Plus, she had one last thing to attend to…

* * *

Outside the castle wall, almost the entirety of the police force were gathered around, shielding themselves behind their cruisers. Everyone there, from the youngest rookie to the veterans of the Dark Age, were shaken by the stories they had heard. Some said that demons of the night had ambushed from the shadows, ripping flesh from bone in an eternal hunt for _souls to drag to __**Hell**_. Others said that the living dead had broken through the earth in their eternal search to feel the warmth of life again, led by a necromancer with a personal vendetta against noble Prince Philip the Dragonslayer. Yet others said that a lone warrior had entered the hall, wielding a blade of blackest steel and the pain of all the world's agony and torment. With such a blade he had cut through a whole host of guardsmen to then kill Philip and rape his women's body while his blood still ran warm. Even now they could see flashes of gunfire and explosions, and hear the cries of war and the dying.

Phoebus, second in command of the police force, did not like this, no not at all. Leaning on his cruiser behind an opened door for cover, he shook his head. And he had a few good reasons why. First, **no one**, in the _whole history_ of the Disney Kingdom, had laid siege to a King's castle. It had just never been done, and only the deeply stupid or very powerful would do such a thing.

Second, what was happening inside the castle? They could hear the action, see the blasts, even smell the smoke, yet no one could see what was going on. Something was afoul, and it was making him antsy. The only reason he was out here and not in there cracking heads was because the Chief did not want him (or anyone, for that matter) in there. "Let them fight it out," he said. "We'll go in when they are done and weakened."

And third, why did everyone have different stories? Phoebus suspected some black magic afoot, messing with people's minds.

Yeah, some kind of warlock or witch...

Wait, now he sounds like Frollo!

"Great!" he muttered sarcastically under his breath.

"What was that, Phoebus?" A stout and fat bull dog humanoid with a moustache wearing the standard black uniform of the force, excepting his hat which was a hard helmet with a star of on it instead of the normal hat, displaying his role as **Police Chief of the Force.**

"Nothing, sir. Just worried."

The old dog nodded his head. "Yeah, aren't we all." he muttered in worry. Normally, the commander and Phoebus could not see eye to eye, yet even this is an understatement. The Chief thought that Phoebus was a young pup with a cocky attitude and a collection of unorthodox methods that was a risk to himself, Phoebus and the entire force.. Likewise, Phoebus could not stand an old traditionalist with a black-white view of the world. He had had enough of them in his life to never trust them again.

And so what if he blew up a entire trailer park! He did not know that the gas lines were so close to each other. And all it took was one little bullet… and you can predict the results.

Good thing it was unoccupied.

Yet tonight was different. The situation, and the very thing (what ever it was), was an enigma to them. It brought up old legends, and for others old memories, of the Dark Age. Things better left in the past, in the shadows of time. Yet, as all of us know, things never work out the way we wish they did. It silenced all former problems, all former complaints, and thankfully for the police force there was no trouble between the two tonight.

"Speaking of trouble," Phoebus suddenly realized. There were no more battle cries, no more shouts of pain, no more booms of bangs, no more…anything.

Around him the rest of the force was starting to realize the same, as if the same thought that hit Phoebus had hit them all…

"Who turned off the war?"

_**Cue Bomb Whistle!**_

The force looked up, following the source of the sound.

"What the…"

The officers did not even have time to respond.

The blast hit their ears first, blowing out the eardrums of everyone in a 13 yard radius. The police, struggling to understand the source of the noise, were sent flying around like a batch of rag dolls tossed by an anger child on a temper tantrum. Cars flipped, castle walls shook, and the whole world was suddenly covered in tapioca pudding.

Yet there was no boom.

Trying to put 2 and 2 together, the befuddled bobbies covered in pudding recollected themselves.

A perpetual ring consumed Phoebus' head, busting his ears and creating a migraine only describable in terms of seismic waves. He struggled to get up and was one of the first to recover. He could only guess a lifetime of blows to the head made him more resilient than most, though his boss would only quip it just made him a harder headed fool.

He wiped off the tapioca off his face, returning sight to his blinded eyes. "Bloody Hell," he muttered. "What's gonna happen next?"

"Ah, sir." a young rookie yelled to Phoebus. "You better have a look at this."

Phoebus shook his head. "Ask a stupid question."

On top of the gate, in a pile of stone and metal, was a crater, no bigger than a small car, and a unexploded warhead in its center. They rallied around, those conscious enough to do so found a weapon they could use, as most had lost there guns in the bomb drop. The police chief approached it first, pushing aside those in his way to be the first to enter the crater's edge.

"Let me go, sir.' Phoebus beseeched as he joined the chief's side.

"No, Phoebus." the old dog said, blocking Phoebus with a strong arm. "We have to get out and let the bomb team in. It could go off at any moment." The Chief's thick moustache vigorously shook when he talked.

Phoebus stood his ground. "But sir, you know I have had training in bomb unarming. I can do this!"

The Chief guffawed. "Yes, and get a one-way ticket to **the Moon**!"

Phoebus thought fast. "You and the rest of the men go then. I'll stay and disable it." The Chief went to counter, but Phoebus interjected. "If this bomb goes off, who knows how much destruction it can cause." The Chief listened, his brow thickening in thought.

"Fine, just do it." the dog man permitted with a wave of his hand. "Come on, men! Move out!"

The rest of the pudding-covered force started to leave, salvaging what ever cruisers were left and starting them up, or on squishy foot. Phoebus began to descend cautiously into the hole. The police chief looked back on Phoebus. "Hey, Blondie!"

Phoebus looked over his shoulder, smiling at his rookie nickname from when the Chief taught police classes. "Yes sir?"

"Just wanted to say… nice knowing you." He seemed like he wanted to say more, but instead shook his head and waved good-bye over his shoulder as he left.

"You too, sir." Phoebus chuckled nervously. He looked in back in to the crater, his possible grave.

"God, why do I do these things."

He approached the bomb, examining the explosive as he did. To be honest, it looked like the thing was stuck together with duct tape and used bubble gum of all the colors of the rainbow. The metal was rusted, so bad in fact that he was surprised it was still in one piece. It should just fall into a pile of scrap and copper-colored sheets.

"Let's have a look here." he mumbled as he reached out to wipe the dust off the pin-up on the bomb's side. It was a leggy blonde, imitating the classic Marilyn Monroe, who was falling down a…

Rabbit hole?

_**Tick, tock, tick, tock…**_

"_Oh, boy."_

The sound rang in the air.

Two words: _**KA-BOOM**_.

* * *

Disclaimer: I own nothing but a host of vacuum cleaners that fill my house. Some friendly advice : Don't let Dr. Facilier sell you anything. You will lose.


	9. TZARBOMBA!

_**Tzarbomba!**_

By the March Hare

_Ringing_.

More _Ringing_.

Head full of _Ringing_.

It was official.

Worst Day Ever.

He should of taken the day off.

Surprised at his own survival, Phoebus literally pulled himself out of a hole in the ground (Shaped just like him!) on the crater's side and looked at himself in awe. He was still alive! But…

How?

"**Phoebus!"** It was the Chief, his voice thick with fear. "**Good God! Phoebus!" **The Chief jumped right into the crater over Phoebus, looking frantically and hoping for (but not expecting) a noticeable lack of dismembered limbs and organs from here to Timbuktu. He looked all around in front of him, about ready to start scratching at the dirt for answers. "**Where is he! Where is he!" **The rest of the formerly withdrawing force ran right back, gathering around the crater in shock and fear.

It was sort of awkward for them.

It would have been a sad sight indeed if Phoebus would have been blown into a million chunks of flesh (unless, of course, if you are a Frollo fan), except for the part where Phoebus was standing right behind the panicking Chief.

"**Phoebus! Phoebus!" **the Chief continued to cry, looking around madly for his second in command.

"Sir, I'm right here"

"**Oh, Phoebus! I can still here your voice!**" The chief ranted to the sky, raising his hands in helplessness and fear.

"Sir, look behind." Phoebus tried again.

"**God, I'll do anything"** he cried** "to get him back! I'll take care of my health! I'll pay more attention to my wife and her needs! I'll even be nice to the door-to-door salesmen and not shut the door in their face!"**

Phoebus crossed his arms and shook his head. "Sir, I strongly doubt that." The rest of the men stood around, unsure if they should join or not.

The police chief turned around in a frenzy. "Boys, get down here and help me look for…" There was Blondie, sitting pretty and smiling at the distraught old dog. The former crusader even snuck in a little wave.

"It's nice to know you care." Phoebus chuckled.

The police chief looked like was ready to faint. Then he looked like he was ready to blow up. **"PHOEBUS! You fat-headed rascal!" **He threw down his hat in anger and was jumping up and down on it in a fury. **"I swear I'll never give you a pay raise ever again!"**

"You never gave me one in the first place."

"**O, you cheeky brat! When this is all over I'm gonna have do…"**

"Pardon me, good sir?" came a voice behind the chief.

The chief swiveled around, his face redder than a baboon's butt, and yelled "**WHAT!"**

_**BOOM!**_

The old dog went flying, his face hit by a two-ton wooden mallet, out of the crater, out of the town, in fact, out over the horizon.

Cartoon physics, gotta love 'em!

Phoebus stood, locked by fear, as the very creature of his darkest nightmares stood on top of the exploded bomb. With a maniacal grin, covered in burns and singed tan fur, and sporting a Russian Cossack traditional dress (like what you see in Russian Folk dancing) topped with fur cap, was the uncontrollable, the unstoppable, and the completely un-understandable MAD MARCH HARE. In this case though, you could call him Tzarbomba.

To put yourself in Phoebus' shoes, to say the March Hare is a model citizen is like saying Hitler actually loved Jews .

Phoebus felt his soul tremble. "Oh, boy."

"**IT"S HAMMER TIME!" **Cackled the March Hare, winding up his mallet for another home run.

_**BOOM!**_

The men watched as their beloved second in command went on a one way trip to the moon. The March Hare cackled like a fool and saluted the flying knight.

"_Going, going, gone!" _the maniac whooped with unrestrained joy. He then pointed the oversized mallet at the police, his voice demanding challenge. "Who's next?"

The police looked at each other, nodded, and ran for it. The March Hare grinned, a wild look consuming his two bulging eyes. "Now why do they always run away?" The March Hare shrugged and smiled. "Too make my life fun, of course."

He jumped over the crater and into the mob, his tongue hanging out like swinging around like a helicopter blade. It contacted several of the men, slobbering them in gallons of salvia. Whatever saliva did not hit those men shot out like shrapnel, hitting everyone else.

"Yum, yum!" The hectic hare cried. "Tapioca, my favorite!"

The scattered men tried to run for their cars, but that was to no avail. One poor guy got grabbed by the tongue and thrown over the courtyard wall. Those that made it to the cruisers rued it. One cruiser got smashed by the hammer in the middle, trapping and squishing the men in the car.

Peeking into the driver's window, the boisterous bunny pointed to the indent and politely commented "Yeah, I don't think insurance will cover that. BUT," he said " I can fix it for 4000 dollars plus a 20% interest for every donut sprinkle I find on the floor."

The men were immobilized with fear.

Another cruiser's engine started up, a desperate cry coming from both vehicle and man. "Just a moment." the March Hare chimed.

"**YAAAH-HEEE!" **

The vehicle had only made it a meter before the back end of it was smashed (_**BOOM!)**_ into the ground, breaking the axle and causing the men to vacant the automobile. "Now that's just rude manners!" announced the Hare to himself. "Here." he pulled out a bowling ball out of his shoe. "Sit down and relax!"

He rolled the weighty orb down the road, taking out the men at the feet and causing them to land on their rear ends. " Strike!" the March Hare sliding into a little Saturday Night Fever. Then he did a little touchdown dancing, moon walking forwards and bobbing his head back and forth, and then "Whoo, I'm on fire!"

_**BAM!**_

And then the cruiser hit him.

He disappeared under the car, the cruiser charging at full speed. 'We got him!" the mounted men cried in jovial disbelief.

"You broke my M.J.!" the mad bunny announced as the vehicle hit an abrupt stop over the maniacal bunny. Sounds of crunched bone could be heard underneath.

The men got and out and went look under the vehicle in glee. "The boss is gonna give us a promotion for this!" They looked under and…

Found nothing.

The men went into a panic. Where did he go? Did he go into the car's bottom? Did he crawl into the road? They attempted to answer these questions, but found no explanation for any of them.

"Come on! Let's get back into the…"

"Car?"

Where there was, there was none.

"What the…" they could not believe it! Their cruiser was stolen... in less than 10 seconds, without a sound, right behind them.

"_**HEY!"**_

The men swiveled around. Their eyes were scoured by penetrating headlights.

A insane cackle echoed from the car.

The March Hare, in control of the pilfered squad car, started the engines.

Smiling at their surprised expressions, the psycho hare simply muttered

"Let's play."

A mechanical roar emanated from the automobile.

A mad dash for the survival occurred as the surviving squad of mauled, mangled, and soiled men ran for their very lives. March Hare, cackling like a two-head hyena, began the pursuit.

"Out of my way!"

_**BAM!**_

"I don't got insurance!"

And that is where we leave the March Hare for now, pursuing the survivors of a non-lethal massacre into the night, screaming **"MAKE WAY FOR THE BAD GUY!"**

* * *

Maleficent's castle was dark, creepy, silent, and smelled like Death, frightening all but the foolish, brave or both away. Absent was the accursed light, the obnoxious joys of cartoon kind and the self-idolizing nature the heroes had seem to take on lately.

In here, all she could do was wallow in self-pity, stare into the inky, black abyss and _slowly_ slip into madness.

Boredom is a force to be reckoned with.

But, for now, she had bigger things to stare at. No, not anything perverted, but her very own crystal ball. In one of the higher chambers of her castle it lied, the only source of light in that room saving a skylight leading to the night sky. It sat over Maleficent's inky black abyss and was connected to land by only a simple stone bridge, no railings or sides to catch you.

One slip, and you have a _long_ time to wave goodbye to your friends.

The crystal ball was held aloft by a two stone dragons and was her most vital connection to the outside world. It glowed emerald green, and stirred with a flash of evil magic when the Mistress of All Evil approached it. She strode, purposely, up to it (attended to by two bickering minions) and waved a long-nailed hand over it.

"Show me all those who were involved in tonight's delightful madness."

The foul thing flickered, shined, and then produced green gas that spiraled and formed into circles that, like mirrors to another world, held a view of all who had "participated" in that night's events.

"Perfect." the dark fae whispered to herself, stoking Diablo, who was perched on her staff. The foul fowl cawed in malefic joy.

The two minions stopped bickering, their ungentle attentions now absorbed into the magic of the emerald sphere.

Maleficent's gaze scoured the gaseous windows, her goal to find all those not on Facilier's side and finish the night on a friendlier note. Her powerful voice filled the air as one by one she dismissed certain windows. Those specific views became as evanescence, fading away into the castle's dark recesses.

Come to think about, she was in the mood for some Evanescence. Oh, hot-Hells! She forgot to recharge her Ipod! Again!

Ignoring her mood swings, she continued on until all those that mattered were no longer in the her way (That sounded kind of evil, didn't it?). Then, she began her spell.

_Evil spirits of this foul sphere_

_Come to me and bring me cheer!_

_Make my enemy forget this night,Let it all pass away into a dark dream's fright!_

_Do this and this alone,The Mistress of Evil still sits upon her throne!_

The odious orb trembled in anticipation. "Yes! Yes!" cried the loathsome sorceress. "Hell hath no fury like me!" She raised her hand, as a powerful urge to destroy things for no other purpose but to be a bitch, shook her form.

Then the room rocked to and fro, as the orb's spirits joined into the madness. The obscene abominations roared, screaming like a monster ripping its way out of its mother's womb.

A demonic spiral shot out of the detestable sphere, blazing like a pillar of fire and filling the night sky with flame and fury. The emancipated evils of the orb arose, shooting from the spiral through the skylight and spreading like a cancer across the land. Unseen by ungifted eyes, lines of emerald fire raced to the far off metropolis and disappeared into the horizon.

"Perfect." thought Maleficent. "Now every nuisance that would bother our little rescue attempt will never be able to distinguish this incident from a nightmare!" She put a finger to her smiling lips. "I'm so evil."

That unfortunately went to a frown as the need for such a rescue troubled her mind. Despite her utter LOATHING and HATRED TO FILL THE NINE HELLS that she held for Prince Philip, it would take some powerful magic to bend the prince's mind towards acts of evil and still have him act like himself in public with out so much as a rude look! It was the kind of magic that she had not yet achieved, despite her countless years spent studying the dark arts (Don't get any ideas, Harry Potter fans!). It made her filthy heart tremble in fear, not that she would mention it to anybody!

So who, other than herself, could do such a thing? Grimhilde (the Evil Queen from _Snow White_) could be putting in action some master plot, but she would not have enough power to do so. Madame Mim? No, she was just a hedge witch spinning cantrips! Jafar? No, he might still have the power of a genie, though she did not know for sure, but he was sitting pretty with his job as reporter for the _Daily Disney_ (The Disney Kingdom's most popular newspaper).

So who could it be!

"Oh, I have had enough for today." she moaned, rubbing her eyes. "I'm going to sleep."

Feeling down and out, she blasted her two minions into the abyss below. They screamed in fear as went down, down, down into the ever silent darkness below. She watched as they did so, Diablo cawing in utter satisfaction. _Yet_, even this brought no joy to her corrupted heart, for now she could no longer claim the right to be called the Mistress of All Evil and still be able to look herself in the cold, cruel eye. Bowing her head in shame, she crossed the path and vanished into the recesses of the castle, her beloved familiar cawing in despair.

The minions continued to fall and, last I heard, they're still falling.

* * *

If a golf cart screwed a taxi and the baby was hit by a forklift and sent over a cliff, you would still be grateful to have it over the condition of a certain cruiser in a certain hare's hands. The thing was, simply put, past the point of no return. The thing slid (slid being the operative word) back into the castle courtyard. The tires were gone, burnt "like rubber" somewhere on the road to Cinderella's castle to the bottom of the ocean. The back end was caved in by the pillar of a Greek temple (the latter was now part of the pile of rubble that used to be a Greek temple). The engine was full of Bayou plants and French fry oil, and the breaks were, for all practical purposes, nonexistent.

The car door "opened" (_more like fell off_) as the Mad March Hare leapt out of the pilfered automobile. "**WHOO-WHEE!**" he let out a cry of joy, rolling in the grass like a frisky mongrel. He took a huge whiff of the wet earth and leaped in joy, his arms flapping around like a duck on fire. "That was more fun than kicking Shan-Yu in his groin!" He paused and rubbed it neck. "Not that I enjoy getting chocked blue, but it was still fun!"

Pulling out his cell phone, he leaned against his mallet and dialed in a number. "Hey, Reg. All's clear, but I think we better make a stop by McDonald's."

"Why would we do that?" came the electronic voice of the Mad Hatter. "We're still broke after that time we crashed Prince Adam's palace and had to pay for damages."

"Yeah, but wasn't it worth it." reminisced the March Hare with a chuckle.

The two laughed in agreement, chortling in remembrance of the night when they nearly got so tanked they could trip over their own thoughts. They also broke their own record for the world's worst hangover. They woke up in a alternative bar in New Amsterdam, butt naked, surrounded by male strippers, and coated in honey and oil.

The Mad Hatter had a hard time telling Alice that one!

"But seriously," the Mad Hatter managed through his laughing. " Where are we going to get the money?"

The March Hare stopped, looked down, and picked up a stray wallet left behind in the mad flight of the police force. "I got about." he rummaged through the wallet "30 dollars right here. Good enough?"

"_Oh, yeah," _Reginald said with his a deep voice. "That's enough to freeze the rest of our brain cells into oblivion with ice cream!"

Cool!" cried the March Hare. " But lately I've got a hankerin' for a really good peanut butter and jelly burger on a side of anchovies. Like 5 stars, man!" he paused, pondered for a moment, and then said "Oh, and some pickles and ice cream would be wonderful too!"

"Splendid!" the Mad Hatter roared. "I'll have what the same. Be there in a jiff. Big Nose over and out!"

"Tzarbomba out."

After hearing the transmission cut out, he shut the phone and, alone in front of a castle that looks like it had been hit by King Kong and Godzilla at the same time, started humming. "It Was a Good Day" by Ice Cube.

Because today was a good day to be the March Hare.

* * *

Author's Note: I hoped you liked this chapter. If anyone thinks it could have been done better (especially the parts with wonderful ol' me in it!), tell me how and why and I will eagerly listen!.

This leaves (maybe) only one more chapter to go! Then, things get even better…oh, so much better…much better…

Disclaimer: I own nothing (songs, their lyrics, and anything else included) but a new "car" as of now. Anyone interested in a stolen police cruiser on ebay?


	10. Angels

_**Angel**_

By the March Hare

**Author's note: Come on, Angel. **_**You know**_** you want the cruiser…**

**Back to our story!**

* * *

It would have been simple. So simple.

A little ritual taught to her by the fae of the forest. A little dirt sprinkled in a knot to prepare for the sprites' coming. A little chant to call them. A little offering of milk and bread to please them. A little time for them to help the Doctor do his thing. An eternity to spend with the one she loved.

Simple. So simple.

Dreams of little feet and warm nights haunted her waking nightmare.

* * *

The trio ran as if pursued by daemons, Shadow in rear, Shadowman in front, the shadow of a woman in the middle.

Through the ghastly forest they ran, through a forest stuck in seemingly eternal night. Owl hoots and long, lonesome wolf cries could be heard every now and then, alongside the heavy panting of the party. Occasionally they would hear running water, but even that would soon vanish in the mad rush. The trees, to their twitching eyes, appeared as apparitions in the Moon's grace, their leaves as cloaks for the immortal eyes of the land.

Yes, Facilier could see them, the lords of the Land of Youth. Fairies, fae, sprites, pixies, call them what you want. They were there, and they were many. Some had eyes of disgust, others of pity, but most reflected, as if from two everlasting lakes, true grief at the fallen princess's pain. He could tell they and Briar Rose were close, he could just feel the Gentry's touch in her. He had already deduced that they were a part of Rose's plans. Where else would she get her aid in healing Philip? Maleficent was powerful, but lacked the proper magic for this kind of work, and himself, though able to perform anything in the book, was lacking the aid of some otherworldly power to help him do so. He was merely a medium for the spirits, not a power in his own right.

Okay, okay, he was a loser when it came to magic, but as of now he was an Olympic Gold Medal winner compared to Rose. She had lost everything that by birth she had ever owned. Her castle, her gardens, her servants, her gold, her silver, her very throne given up for a chance to heal the twisted mind of her lover. But like a outlaw she had become, possibly to be hunted and killed by the one she had, and seemingly always would, love.

It was true what he had learned. Love was a magical mystery, the answer being forever out of his grasp (or his life for that matter). Of course, these musings meant nothing when compared to the next problem he was facing.

Shelter, food, water, the basics to human survival. Rose would need those, but were?

Shadow, who had been silently listening to Facilier's musing, squealed, telepathically, a suggestion.

Facilier looked befuddled at his friend, violet eyes shining through a skull's visage.

"You sure?" he mentally asked. "He's got a longer criminal record than me." he mentally paused. "And his place is a piece of crap."

Shadow grinned, as if to say

"That's why no one would _want_ to look there"

* * *

"Now look what the cat dragged in, the puppy dog wouldn't play with, and the rat **would not** even touch."

Facilier, now in his regular clothes, gave the weasel humanoid behind the desk a look that could kill. "This isn't the time for jokes, Tony. I gotta get some help, and I gotta get it **now**." he growled back. He leaned on his walking stick for support, a bit anxious from the chaotic night's events.

"Oh!" Tony raised his arms to cover himself, feigning fear. "Well, aren't we the big, bad Docta!"

"Just be happy I can't turn you into a frog, or a fly I could swat…" Facilier thought.

"Listen, Tony," the Shadowman said, sliding into his old ways. "I got a little trouble chasin' my coat tails, so if you would be so kind as to see it in your heart (if you do have one)," the witch doctor approached the desk suavely, stick in hand, " to give my _chere_ here a room," he motioned to a _deathly_ still Briar Rose in the corner " _for free,_" he rubbed his first two fingers with his thumb_ "_then I would make it worth the your while." The bokor leaned his left side on the desk, the stick now swinging back and forth, by its top, in his right hand. "If, of course, you told no one about her or this deal." He finished his bargain with a grin that would deceive a daemon.

His unnatural eyes stared directly into the weasel's brown pair. The weasel felt an unusual urge to do whatever the Shadowman asked, without a single question.

This is why he hated working with the Shadowman. He could sell Gandhi a gun.

"All right, all right. I'll do it." the weasel raised his hands defensively. "But I wanna know what do I get out of this," he then pointed at the women "and how bad is this dame in trouble?"

Rose, hooded by a shawl and consumed in the doctor's trench coat, remained unmoving as a gravestone.

Facilier shook his head, leaned his stick against the counter, and smacking his hands together. "Well, my _friend, _I can get _you _some of the **good stuff**" he winked at the weasel knowingly "_for free_, if you would be so kind to do this _little _thing for me."

The weasel grinned, _pure_ _greed _reflecting in his eyes. "The **good stuff?**" his shifty eyes went back and forth in his pointed skull as his pupils turned into signs with a "Chick-ching!" sound..

Facilier took a step back and waited for greed to do the rest of the work.

"Deal." Tony finally said after a few moments in thought. The two extended hands in a shake, and the weasel produced the key. "Room 13. Top floor, last room on your left."

Tony took a quick look around to be sure the area was clear. "It's a crying shame though, about that room that is!" he winked to the doctor. "It's been hit hard by a bunch o' termites lately. Tell the missy to be careful with the place."

The two exchanged a grin. "Perfect." thought the bokor. He took the key from the former gangster.

"From one careful owner to another." declared Tony.

"Sucker!" the two men thought simultaneously.

With that Facilier took his walking stick, went over and took the still lady in his arms, leading her silently up the stairs. To even the casual observer, though, it looked more like he had to drag her up the way, one step by one.

This was not of any concern to Tony, however, as he leaned on elbows on top of the desk.. He was still consumed in his acquisitive thoughts, rubbing his hands together and looking quite possessed.

"_Money, money, money, money…"_

Until he remembered he had never got the answer to his second question. He face palmed himself in anger.

"Crap."

* * *

The hallway's light cut like a blade through the opened doorway, stirring a collection of moths on the one-person bed and sending them fluttering out the unclosed window. The room was black as the night around it, the full moon in full view of the window. Shadow slid in like a flash of darkness and swirled around the moonlight, disturbing not a thing as he took a few moments to inspect the place, as if to say "Even if we got crap, we should at least make sure it's good crap."

The room itself was as bland as the rest of the apartment structure, white paint and the bare minimum being the main (and only) theme. With a bed with no legs ( it looked like it was nailed straight to the floor), no light save a broken light bulb on the ceiling, and a single bathroom with (miracle of miracles!) a **working** toilet, sink, and shower, it was the kind of place apartment inspectors had nightmares about. The only redeeming factor was that it was, for the greater part, clean except a thin layer of dust.

But that was not why Facilier, on suggestion of Shadow, had brought Rose here. If it was his choice, he would of gotten a 5 star place with a topnotch staff, room service, and gold-plated bathroom (why it should be gold-plated is beyond him, but that's what people with more money than brains like to do with their money). He brought her here because this part of Downtown Disneyville was skipped by the police patrols _willingly _due to its nature. It was prime villain territory, and the less the law-abiding citizens of Disneyville had to deal with or even see the "villain scum", the better everything went for them. Kind of like racism without the skin color.

Plus, if Maleficent's idea failed somehow, then she would be away from the Emporium, while Facilier would be getting dragged away in handcuffs _at best_. Attempted regicide would **optimisticall**y get him life in prison.

In a rat-infested dungeon with rapists, more than likely not.

"All right, Rose," Facilier began as he flipped the light switch on. Nothing happened. Shrugging, he carried on. "If there's ever a police search, a S.W.A.T team, or even a nosy dog, there's," he motioned with his stick to under the bed, " a trap door covered by the rug under the mattress ." he said, lifting the seemingly unmovable bed to produce said rug. He looked at her to see if she was looking. She was not, but he carried on anyway. She had stopped crying halfway though forest, but he still did not want to bother her too much. She probably was listening anyway. She could not be that far gone.

He hoped.

" It leads to a tunnel," he continued. "that leads out into the basement of the Villain's Vogue. They'll protect you there."

The ethereal Rose twitched at mention of the Vogue. To put it in simple terms, it would be a clubhouse for the wicked and demented of the Disney Kingdom. But, things are never that simple, and even more so for the Vogue. All Rose had heard about it was that if you had the odd fetish of wanting to get gang-rapped and mugged on every block you steeped on, you went there.

Facilier stood up, rubbing his neck with his free hand. With a sigh, he closed his eyes. "That should be all." His violet pools remerged. He turned back to Rose. "If ya'll need anything, Tony's got a phone at his desk he keeps hidden." He rummaged in his pocket and pulled out his business card. It had the recent addition of a phone number on it. "Don't be 'fraid to call me." He went to turn for the door but stopped and turned back around. "Oh, don't be worrying your pretty little head about Tony. He's greedy," Facilier smiled. "Which makes him predictable." Facilier turned back around and made again for the door. "And stupid."

Then, he felt a sudden touch of…concern mingled with fear, enter his dark soul. He looked at Shadow, shook his head at his own stupid self, wondering if this women would be the _death _of him.

He turned around (again) reached out and touched her hand. It was as cold as _ice._ "Don't worry. I'll make sure things work out between you and your " he had to spit the next word out, "husband."

She barely stirred, as if she was a ripple on a pond disturbed by the winter breeze.

Facilier turned away, rolling his shoulders and neck and walking to the door.

His hand was suddenly snatched back.

Flipping around like rubber, Facilier came face to face with his trench coat, held out by the free hand of the silent lady still dressed in her ball gown. Facilier chuckled, and waved it off. "Keep it. You could need it. Plus, Tony sometimes gets even _more_ cheap, believe it or not, and turns the heat off at night."

Did his eyes fool him, or did she just crack a smile?

"Facilier."

Her voice stopped his very heartbeat. It was broken, raspy from the tears and the mucus, yet it held a certain tone of strength and love she had always had. It was more beautiful than the nightingale's song, more sweet than the branch bird's tune, more lovely than the wood nymph's lullaby.

And that ever so perfect voice bore one simple question.

"Why did you call me your "angel"?"

Facilier had the sudden urge to "Ee-ha!" and buck, because he sure felt like a ass right then and there. He had never meant to call her that, or even mention it for that matter. It felt like all the blood in his body went straight to his cheeks, which it did. He began to squirm like a 7 year old boy getting caught telling his first lie. Shadow nervously danced around the room, suddenly realizing that Facilier's secret passion for this Rose might cause some **very** serious thorns in the future.

Briar Rose waited patiently, her head still held down, her eyes hidden by the shawl's hood.

Facilier stood there, like an idiot, looking for the right answer and knowing that whatever "weasel words" he said would not satisfy the princess. Abandoning all the lies that would get him out of this conundrum, he told her something he had barely ever said without the intent to ruin another's life.

The truth.

He shrugged, gave a glance to the ready-to-have-a-nervous-breakdown Shadow, and looked back at Rose. He then glanced out the window, letting the sight of the Moon calm his soul.

"When I was a little, my momma would take me to a Catholic Church." he chuckled, his eyes looking off into space, and his mind even farther away. "Now I would hate every moment of it!" he declared with a chuckle, sitting down on the mattress (it was old, but oddly comfortable), with a look of utter disgust on his face. It soon switched to a cheesy grin "But I loved one thing, and one thing only," he literally pointed out "about going to church."

Briar Rose sat down next to the storyteller, removing her hood and listening intently to the tale. Shadow rejoined his master, despite him knowing all there was to know about Facilier, to listen and smile at least.

"There was a single stain-glass window, right behind the Father's podium, and in it there was this lovely lady angel, wrapped in scarlet and givin' food to all these outstretched hands, and on top of the window there was something in Latin,_** "Invictus Spes" **_. Now, for the life of me, I could never figure out what it meant! I asked my mommy, my daddy, my aunt, my uncles, my cousins, the list goes on!" His walking stick waved across the air, a joyfully possessed look on his countenance. "I tried to get that ol' priest to tell me what it was, more times than I care to count, and he would always smile and ask me what I thought it meant." He threw his hands up, as the by-gone feelings of frustrations returned to him.

He shook his head, for what seemed like the tenth time this night, and smiled a large, happy smile. Despite his utter **hatred** of being an open book, this women could crack him open like a sap and take him for all his worth.

And you know what, it was all right.

"So, years went by and I mostly forgot about that angel, forgot about her blue eyes and that lovin', yet all knowin' smile. Yet, every now and then I would go back to that time, when I wore a younger man's clothes, and remember and muse on those words Until…"

He turned to Rose. "I met you."

He smiled at her, something he found he could never do enough lately. But no longer was it a conman's grin, nor a daemon's smirk, but an honest man's smile. "Those words, those very words until this day I did not know, meant _**"Invincible Hope" . **_And I know this because you inspired me to believe in my self. My old, stupid, sinful self." his head sank for a moment, a small amount of regret surfacing in his face. Just like that, though, it disappeared and he raised his head again. "And for that…"

He looked Rose dead straight in the eyes, bent over, and kissed her cheek, all in one smooth motion. He could feel Briar Rose's breath stop, barely hearing a gasp of surprise escape her mouth. He slowly bent back, reluctant to let go of the smell of roses and mist that caressed him, and was surprised to see Rose look like she had just been touched by an angel. Her eyes were wide in astonishment and her mouth was slightly hanging.

He stood up.

"I am forever grateful."

With a tip of the hat, he bid Rose "Good night." and nonchalantly strode over to the door, opened it, smiled at Rose (who's wide eyes were locked on the witch doctor in an odd sort of surprise and silent happiness.), waved good-bye, and left, closing the door behind him.

The room was still.

Outside, an owl hooted in the distance.

Briar Rose, alone in the dark, cried herself to sleep that night. Not for her loss, for she had already done so enough this night. Now was the time for sleep. She would think more tomorrow.

No, she cried for the poor fool who would only find disappointment in her.

And he knew it.

* * *

"Hey, Docta!"

The witch doctor turned around, giving up the foolish attempt to avoid answering the second question with the quickest fast walk known to mankind.

"Yes." he simply, and despairingly, said.

"What happens if I get caught?" Tony demanded, his fist hitting the desk.

Facilier smiled, a cruel, dark smile that was more suited to the Cheshire Cat than a human.

"Rapists, _chere_." was all he said.

He left like a flash.

The weasel's eyes shot open, **wide**. "I got a bad feelin' about this."

Tony slumped in his chair, and turned the heat off with a flick of a switch.

* * *

Facilier stepped out into the street, glanced slyly around, and slide into a nearby alley, letting the darkness consume him, mind, heart, and soul.

His actions did not go unnoticed.

In the darkness, with only a lone fire filling the room with light, a lone figure cloaked in a ragged cape, watched the witch doctor through a crystal orb.

"Yes, _yes._ All is going perfectly to plan."

The lone figure snuffed out the fire with a flick of its wrist.

"Now, to let the fools _tear_ each other apart…"

* * *

To be continued in _**V.I.P. !: The Villain Improvement Program **_**or **_**Very Insane People.**_

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the voices in my head!

* * *

**Author's note : I would love to thank my first and most loyal reviewer, Angel. It meant more than the world to me to have someone read and constantly review my first stories. If you, or anyone else for that matter, have a story request you would like me to write, tell me so I can try to do so.**

**P.S. Angel : If you are still doing "Genesis of a Villain", I would love to see you do Doctor Facilier and/or Captain Hook!**

**P.S.S Angel: Now I have a serious question. Where did you ever get the idea for Grimhilde and Captain Hook, 'cause I still am lost on that one? No offense meant, just utter confusion.**


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